


Revenge

by Paladin4TheRight



Category: South Park
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Chaptered, Emotional triggers, Explicit Language, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Some mentioned characters will appear in later chapters, Teen Pregnancy, i don't know yet, maybe smut?, there may be a few own characters to fill in some gaps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paladin4TheRight/pseuds/Paladin4TheRight
Summary: Cartman is pissed that Stan and Kyle are together. He has a plan for Kyle: to take him no matter the cost. 'Project Jew' is a go.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> All the kids have been aged up in this AU. 
> 
> Sociopathic Cartman and teen pregnancy mentions. Stong language and illegal actions take place.
> 
> With over a thousand people looking/reading this, I thought I would add my  playlist  that I have for it!! Enjoy! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

Karen McCormick was six months pregnant. She would be the perfect object to use in Cartman’s twisted, devious plan he’d dubbed, “Project Jew”.

Karen had accidentally gotten pregnant by Ike Broflovski. She apparently didn’t want to graduate from high school as a virgin and Ike needed to know whether or not he was gay. Win, win, right? The only problem was that neither teen was expecting the Canadian to be extremely potent, only getting Karen pregnant on pre-come. Ike had discovered he actually was _fucking_ gay and Karen found out later that she was pregnant.The two were best friends along with Tricia Tucker. The three amigos were practically inseparable which made this plan extremely difficult. Not to mention Karen recently started dating Fillmore Anderson. Another set back. This, of course, was all to get Kyle back, that _damned fucking Jew boy_.

Stan Marsh had left just after high school to join the Marines and Kyle stayed obsessed with school. He used this as an excuse to bury his head in homework rather than wonder why the fuck his heart hurt. Of course, Cartman tried to make him feel better by taking him out but that was a rare occurrence. Hell, just a little fucking attention from Kyle would have been nice. Cartman just wasn’t good enough. All his fucking attention went to his courses and Kyle made no time for Cartman. Therefore, Cartman had to go and find attention elsewhere. He preyed upon Butters Stotch for almost six years. Even poor ass _Kenny McCormick_ had gone to college. He became a paramedic while Kyle became a microbiologist. _Fuckers_. Kenny always wanted to help people and better himself. He always put others before himself. Then one day he came back to town and literally stole Butters away from Cartman. After that, all Cartman could think of was Kyle. Somehow the putrid Jew always weaseled his way back into his mind, even when he was fucking someone else. Even with Butters, Cartman would imagine that curly, red-headed Hebrew writhing under his body and the images just grew from there.

Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak had gotten engaged during their high school graduation ceremony. It was definitely a sight to behold and not one easily forgotten. A year later they were married. As far as Cartman knew, Tweek had opened his own coffee shop in Denver, ‘Tucker’d Out Coffee’ he believed it was called. It supposedly was even better than his parents and had NO traces of drugs, making the little twitchy blonde slightly less twitchy. Craig had a job at Ball Aerospace Corporation near the coffee shop. He spent his day looking at stars and helping NASA reach them. _Fucking space geek_. Kyle had moved to Denver for school and now he worked at some bio-engineering laboratory and Kenny worked at a hospital somewhere in the downtown Denver area. Almost everyone lived in Denver now. Butters lived with Kenny and about six months ago fucking gay-ass Stanley came back from touring in Afghanistan. Honorable discharge so Cartman hears it. Supposedly a few months ago Stan and Kyle actually became an item and it wretched Cartman’s stomach. He was fucking sick with rage and envy. _He_ had been there for Kyle, _not_ Stan. Stan was a notorious alcoholic from early elementary school on into high school. Their senior year Stan held his birthday party at his parents house and got fucking plastered. He took Kyle to his bedroom and tried to drunk fuck him. Cartman saw it all through the gap in the closed-over bedroom door. Kyle had a few drinks, but he was smart enough to hold himself back. Fucking Stan, though, confessed his feelings that night. He even literally threw them up. Cartman thought that Kyle probably didn’t even realize Stan was admitting the truth; Stan’s slurred words were just that of drunken stupor. Thoughts of that night _still_ make Cartman digest rocks. Instead of interrupting them, he just went home to jack off to pictures of Kyle he had collected over the years.

Cartman remembered the next morning. He remembered the look on Kyle’s face when he realized that Stan had forgotten everything that happened the previous night. He saw how much Kyle hurt even if he said nothing about it. Cartman and Kyle actually became really close after that. He thought he would finally have Kyle to himself once Stan was out of the picture. Kyle’s stupid super-best-friend always held him back from being happy. Low and behold, the fucking bastard came back a goddamn hero. Guess the military set his drinking problem straight because he went through police academy and was currently serving as Denver’s rookie police officer. _Motherfucker_. He didn’t deserve Kyle. No one did. _Except Eric fucking Cartman_. 

That’s why over a month ago Cartman began sending Kyle texts from unknown numbers. He confessed his love for Kyle over text. He had always intended to tell him in person but Kyle gave him no choice. He _knew_ Kyle knew it was him. He was going to have Kyle to himself whether willingly or by force if necessary. He didn’t know where the couple lived in Denver even with the extensive research on the two. This is where his plan came into play.

Cartman only had a small window for his plan to be operated. He knew Butters and Kenny were coming back to South Park for the last few months of Karen’s pregnancy so she could receive help to finish out high school. She wanted to graduate with her friends. Kenny’s weakness was always his sister and they would be in town by the end of the week.

So there Cartman was: silently opening up the window of the pregnant’s girl’s room. Oddly enough, Karen was living with the Tuckers in Craig’s old bedroom. She was kicked out of her parents house when they found out she was with child. This made Cartman have to work harder at tracking the bitch. This was the first night he had found her asleep in her bed without her damned boyfriend or having some kind of sleep over with Ike. Once the window was open, he clambered his large body through and pulled a Ziplock bag from his thick jacket pocket. Inside was a rag doused in chloroform. He opened the bag, gritting his teeth together as he pulled the plastic grips apart, trying his best to not make a sound. He quickly took the wet rag out as he crossed the carpeted bedroom floor in a few strides. He took in a deep breath and quickly shoved the rag over the Karen’s nose and mouth. It startled her enough to where her big blue eyes flew open and she struggled against him. Cartman used his weight to his advantage and pressed against her. She squirmed and tried to scream but the noxious fumes of the chloroform worked all too well. Her arms fell limp and her eyes fluttered to the back of her head. Now everything else would fall into place…once Cartman figured out how to take the limp body to his mother’s house.

Someone would realize Karen was missing, Kenny would be notified and tell Kyle. Then Kyle would text him. It was all just a waiting game now.

That’s when the transaction would take place.

A trade.

The pregnant teen for the ginger Jew.


	2. Goin' Down to South Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny and Butters go home.

The pain was unfathomable. His ribs were breaking by the crushing weight on his chest and his lungs felt like they were on fire as he gasped for air. Tears welled up in his eyes as he managed to squeeze out one thought through the pain: ‘God I hope Butters or Karen don’t see me like this.’. A bright light came to his attention but seemed to take an eternity to reach him. The unrelenting pangs never ceased as his vision grew blurry. What was taking so long? Just get it fucking over with already; this fucking hurt! There was a strange buzzing noise and it began to crescendo. Kenny could no longer ignore the sound. He opened his mouth in the whiteness that surrounded him and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Someone get me out of this!!” He bellowed.

Kenny’s eyes flashed open as he woke up with a start. He accidentally flung Butters’ arm off of his sweaty chest as he sat up. Kenny blinked a few times as he put his hands to his heaving chest inspecting the damage. His fingertips touched his firm pecks and found nothing out of the ordinary.

“What’s wrong, Darlin’?” came Butters’ sleepy southern drawl from the darkness next to him. That’s when it hit Kenny. It had all been another nightmare.

“Is that your phone?” Butters’ voice came again and Kenny cranked his head to his left. He reached out to grab his phone from the end table that sat next to the bed. As he lifted the phone from being screen down on the table, the dim blue light illuminated the room. He saw Karen’s face on the screen and he didn’t hesitate to swipe the pad of his thumb across the screen and put the phone to his ear.

“Karen, what’s wrong?” He asked hurriedly in a worried tone. Sleep was evident in his hoarse voice.

“Kenny…this is Trish.” Replied the voice and she sounded just as worried as Kenny felt.

“Trish? What’s wrong? Where’s Karen?” He asked firmly. His stomach lifted into his throat.

Trish began to sob on the other end of the line.

“I don’t know. S-She’s gone.” Trish mumbled. “I was hoping you knew something. According to her phone you were the last person she talked to last night.”

Kenny’s mouth fell open and nausea washed over him as Trish began sobbing again.

“What do you mean _she’s gone?_ ”

The bed shifted as Butters moved to wrap his arms around Kenny. Lifting a hand to his own head, Kenny ran his fingers roughly through his golden locks.

“Okay, okay.” Kenny said finally, his voice smoothing over to sound more comforting to Trish. “Butters and I are coming into town. Just let us pack up some stuff and we’ll be on the way. Call your brother. See if he can come to town too. That might make you feel better. We’ll be there soon.” Kenny finished.

The two said their goodbyes and Kenny looked down at Butters with a worried frown.

“Karen is missing and I've got a feeling I know who it was.”

Butters frowned, “Ya think it was Eric, dontcha?” He asked gently as he watched Kenny with pale blue eyes.

Nodding, Kenny got out of bed and flicked on the light. Butters blinked a few times to get his eyes to adjust to the sudden blinding light as Kenny grabbed a pair of jeans off of the floor.

“Better get dressed, baby. We gotta pack up and head to South Park. I’m calling Mom and letting her know we are coming. It should be better there now that Dad is in prison. Mom says she’s been clean for five months now.”

*~*~*~*

After a few hours of preparation, the boys finished packing. Butters put the last bag in the cab of Kenny’s black Chevy truck.

“That’s the last of it, Ken.” Butters announced as he came back into the house once he shut the door to the truck.

Kenny’s eyebrows were knitted together tightly with a wrinkle of worry between them. He had been staring off as he lost himself in thought until he heard Butters voice.

“Ken?” Butters called out to him gently as he took a few steps closer and touched his hips lovingly. “You alright?”

Butters moved his hands delicately from Kenny’s hips to pat a comforting hand on Kenny’s abdomen. Kenny only nodded.

“Just fuckin’ worried.” He breathed out. “C’mon. We gotta tell Stan and Kyle we are ready to leave.”

The two men made their way further into the rental home. Stan and Kyle were both awake and each getting ready for work. Kyle was eating a bagel as he slipped on his white lab coat with the name ‘Broflovski’ stitched into the thick fabric. The lab coat looked astonishingly well on Kyle, Kenny thought. Kyle’s red curly locks bounced into his eyes as he held his bagel in his mouth and struggled with putting his other arm in the sleeve. Stan exited the bathroom in his black police uniform. He was wrapping the heavy, leather utility belt around his waist as his blue eyes fell on Kyle. His heart stopped as he watched his lover struggle with his lab coat. Once Kyle rolled his shoulders he was able to work the coat on himself. When he felt eyes on him, his green eyes flicked up and he found Stan staring at him; he couldn’t help but smile with the bagel in his mouth.

He removed the bagel from his mouth. “What, dude?” He asked and Stan simply shrugged.

As Kenny and Butters entered the kitchen Stan and Kyle grew serious. The atmosphere as soon as they set eyes on Kenny had become thick and almost hard to breathe.

“Haven’t heard anything yet?” Stanley asked carefully and Kenny responded with a nod and a hard swallow.

“Butters and I are all packed up and ready to go. We’re gonna stay with my mom until we find her.” Kenny said as he ran his hand through his long golden hair.

Nodding, Kyle reached out and put a comforting hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“Take care, dude. Let us know if you find her or find out anything about her. We are here for you, man.” He stated encouragingly.

Nodding slowly, Kenny let out a growl. “I know dude…but I fucking know where she is. Cartman has her. I just fucking know it.”

“Well you’ll need to provide evidence to the police before you can just go barreling into his house, dude. They have to get a search warrant and everything. It’s a delicate process.” Stan said with a cautious voice.

Kenny waved him off and shrugged Kyle’s hand off his shoulder. “Whatever, man. We need to fucking leave.” He grumbled, “Take care of the house and just be on the lookout.”

“Will do, dude.” Stan agreed as he brought the taller, thinner man into a squeeze. “It’ll be alright. She’ll be found.” He said against Kenny’s shoulders in a comforting tone.

Kenny only nodded in response before hugging Stan back and the releasing him to move over to Kyle.

“Let me know when you get arrive safely.” Kyle told Kenny, but shifted his eyes to Butters, ensuring _someone_ would do what he asked.

Smiling brightly, Butters nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I-I’d be happy to do that for ya, fellas.” Movement caught Kyle’s eyes and he noticed Butters grinding his knuckles together uncomfortably. Kyle was certain that Kenny’s sudden abrasiveness because of his missing sister was upsetting Butters.

Kenny quickly broke the embrace between them and stepped back. He rubbed his nose, making it crinkle a bit as he moved his eyes to Butters.

“Alright, baby, let’s go.” He said in a determined tone.

He took a few long strides to the front door and made his way to his large, lifted truck. He opened the door and mounted inside. Not long after, the engine roared to life. Butters also followed suit but had to actually climb into the large vehicle because the damn thing was so far off the ground. Kyle couldn’t help but grin at the sight. It was not long before the couple pulled out of the driveway and faded down the road. Kyle’s smile dissipated as the lingering thought came back to his mind.

_Fucking Cartman._

Kyle had been getting bombarded with berating texts from different, unknown numbers for a few months now. Each of them was Cartman. Kyle had even changed his number – twice- but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Cartman even bothered to try and protect his identity. Kyle got random texts, anywhere from being called a ‘dirty fucking Jew’ all the way to ‘remember that time that you were so happy to sniff my farts?’ and ‘I fucking love you! Why can’t you see that?!’ Kyle rolled his eyes internally at the thought. When had Cartman ever truly shown that he loved Kyle? For that matter, love for anyone other than himself? There had always been some sort of plot behind anytime he was ever nice. Even that time when he tried to save all the cats in South Park. It was all a stab back at The Man. Eric Cartman was stupid, bigoted, selfish, racist, and sociopathic.

Stan broke Kyle’s train of thought when he wrapped a strong arm around his thin waist. “You okay Kyle?” He inquired with a hint of a worry to his tone.

A small, weak smile spread across Kyle’s lips that didn’t quite meet his eyes as he responded with, “Yeah, I’m fine, dude.”

Cartman was behind this. He was suddenly just as confident about that fact as Kenny was. Karen had been telling Kenny for over a month how Cartman ran into her at the grocery store in South Park. She had said that Cartman was excruciatingly nice and asked mundane questions about her baby and the pregnancy. It was all too convenient and shady.

Stan leaned in and kissed Kyle’s temple.

“Well, try to have a good day at work, babe.” He said with a simple smile. “I gotta go to the precinct. See ya when I get off.”

His arm slipped from Kyle’s waist as he left Kyle’s side and kissed his temple one more time before leaving the house and getting into his cruiser. Kyle let out a long sigh before putting the cream cheese covered bagel back into his mouth. He tried to finish off his breakfast, chewing slowly. He felt sick to his stomach.

‘It’s going to be a long ass fucking day.’ Kyle thought precariously.

*~*~*

Hours passed by when Kenny and Butters made it to South Park. Butters had successfully sent Kyle and Stan a text as they entered city limits.

“It’s so nice ter see ya, Kenny!” Carol exclaimed with a prominently heavy southern drawl when she saw her son and his boyfriend at the door. She had started hugging Kenny tightly as soon as she let him through the front door of the McCormicks’ home. “Y-Ya know where yer room is…I haven’t changed it since ya moved out.”

She released her grip from Kenny and moved to Butters. She cupped his cheeks in her small hands and beamed.

“Butters, honey. Ya look so good! I’m so happy fer ya two. Ya both deserve ter be happy.” She told him and Butters just smiled shyly as he scoured his knuckles against each other.

“Why, t-thank ya Mrs. McCormick. That’s mighty nice of ya.”

“Oh please, sweetie pie. Call me Carol….er even Mom. It seems that ya two might be next in line to get married?” She asked suggestively with a giggle. She genuinely seemed excited at the idea.

Letting out another frustrated sigh, Kenny eyed his mother. “Honestly, Mom. I am so glad that you are doing better…the house even looks better...” He began as observed his surroundings.

The carpet had been cleaned and it looked like there had been a few paint jobs to cover the cracks and dirty walls. It was still obviously a poorer household than the rest of town but it looked like she actually cared about the appearance now. When the McCormick children were younger, it was like the state of this household didn’t mean shit to either Carol or Stuart. Neither of them could keep a job long enough to fucking support their family.

“…But did you really have to kick Karen out for being pregnant? You did the same exact thing when you were young, getting pregnant with Kevin and all. Who, by the way, was released from prison a couple weeks ago. I don’t know if you have been keeping up with any of your other kids, Mom, but you have them.” Kenny finished as he readjusted his grip on his and Butters’ suitcases and marched down the hall to his old bedroom. He pushed the closed over bedroom door open and took a few steps inside.

Butters smiled sadly back at Carol after watching Kenny storm off. “Mrs. McCormick, dontcha mind Kenny. He is just real worried about Karen.” He said, his voice dripped with honey and he touched her thin arm affectionately. “Kevin may come into town for the weekend to help look for Karen, if ya wanna see him. He has to clear it with his parole officer and boss first though. He already got a job at a garage. He’s a mechanic. He studied while he was in prison! I mean, it’s only been about a week but he is doin’ real well for himself.” Butters smiled sweetly as he tried to brighten the situation before leaving Carol to follow after his boyfriend.

Kenny had sat the suitcases in the middle of his trashed room as he looked around, frowning. He reflected on his life and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he lived here like this. He had a single strand of LED Christmas lights across his room and a few posters of naked women to cover the holes in the walls. A sheet of plastic along with a thick blanket covered the only window in his room. On his wall next to his broken bed were tick marks of how many times he had woken up in this bed after dying. He didn’t die that often now but he still had that damned curse. Only now he woke up near his current bed instead of in this shabby thing.

_Wait a minute._

Kenny crossed his arms over his firm chest as he thought. He could find out where Karen was if he talked to someone that generally knew what was happening all the time.

_Damien Thorn._

Last time Kenny saw him in hell, Damien was made part of his father’s council. He, Pip and Kenny had all…celebrated. Damien had eyes and ears everywhere. It’s possible that he knew this would happen even before Cartman did. Kenny nibbled at his plump bottom lip as Butters walked into the bedroom and gasped.

“Awe Ken! I forgot how cute your room was! Look at your posters with boobies on them!” He chortled excitedly.

Kenny turned back to watch Butters walk the perimeter of the small bedroom. Butters’ pale blue eyes observed the dank area. A genuine smile was on his face and his left eye crinkled a little more because of the faded scar over his eye. Kenny chuckled and shook his head.

“I wouldn’t call it cute. Shit, maybe, but not cute.” He retorted.

Butters spun on his heels and looked at Kenny with a mocking offended expression.

“Kenneth Jack McCormick, how dare ya say that about the room we very first shared ourselves!” He teased with the giggle. “Ya know better than that, Mister!”

Kenny chuckled as his mind wandered elsewhere. Butters moved to the suitcases and quietly sang to himself as he unpacked them.

“Loo, loo, loo, unpacking the suitcases. Loo, loo, loo, gonna search some places. Loo, loo, loo, gotta find Karen. Loo, loo, loo, hope she isn’t barren.” He trailed off gloomily.

The longer his song went on, the more he realized he should stop. Butters looked over his should at Kenny, but he seemed to be lost deeply in thought. His beautiful boyfriend didn’t hear his song, or rather, didn’t care and Butters couldn’t be happier. Generally, Kenny loved Butters’ little jingles but he seemed to be a little preoccupied. Butters didn’t mind so much because he was certain that Kenny was going to come up with a plan to find his sister. Then he would back to his normal, awkwardly charming self that Butters fell in love with. Butters smiled as his heart swelled.

Deep in thought, Kenny was brewing a plan. Tonight, he needed to find a way to get himself killed. He desperately needed to chat with the son of Satan but also do it in a way that would not offend Butters. His Ray of Sunshine had already admitted to having nightmares of Kenny’s deaths and he’d ‘prefer to not have any more’. Kenny would either have to shoot himself, which would be quick but messy, or overdose. Even though his mother admitted to being clean, he was certain he could still find something in this house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys! I wasn't expecting this to take off like it did! Holy shit! Thanks so much for the comments and kudos!! :D :D
> 
> Also "He, Pip and Kenny had all…celebrated" //waggles eyebrows// >:D


	3. Gonna Have Myself a Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consistent italics indicate a flashback! Also, since I posted two chapters today, it'll be a little while before I get the next one up. Thank you for all your continued support. I hope everyone enjoys these two chapters!

_A loud buzzer rang and a large, internal gate began to open automatically. A burly, bearded, dirty blonde headed man stepped past the opening gate to stand in front of a counter where a woman with an unimpressed look was sitting._

_She began to pull out a box full of miscellaneous items: an outdated flip phone, a switch blade, keys to an old pick up, a pair of faded and torn up blue jeans, a used looking wallet with about thirty dollars cash, and a faded black Pink Floyd t-shirt. There was also a soft pack of Marlboro Reds. She pulled a pair of black steel-toed boots to sit beside the box as well._

_The woman pulled out another box that was empty._

_"Strip." She ordered and so the burly man stripped down to his prison-issued briefs. "Place your jumper in the empty box. The underwear is yours to keep." The lady's voice was monotone. It was like she'd done this a thousand times._

_"Please put on the clothes you were admitted with." She said, pushing the full box forward._

_The man grabbed the clothes and began to put them on, pants first followed by the shirt. It had shrunk a bit around the chest, he'd noticed._

_"Is everything in the box, including your clothing items, what was on you when you were admitted?" The woman questioned._

_"Yes."_

_"When you put on your shoes, you may leave." The woman stared. "You're a free man McCormick. Don't fuck it up."_

_The man nodded his head and went to put on his shoes. Two minutes later, he was walking outside, placing all his items in his pockets. It was the first time he'd stepped foot outside the prison walls in almost six years. It was relieving and odd._

_Glancing up, Kevin McCormick took a deep breath as he watched the perimeter gate begin to open. He stood patiently behind the chain link and stepped through as soon as he was able. He looked straight forward, ready to start his life over again._

_*~*~*~*_

_Kenny McCormick was leaning up against his black, lifted, Chevy pick-up truck. He had a cigarette between his lips and a black iPhone in hand as he scrolled through his Facebook page reading the random shit people posted. He took in a deep breath of the nicotine as he slid the thin phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He looked over at his little sister who waited patiently with him. She sat on the warm hood of the truck with her legs crossed. Her round, pregnant belly protruded showing that Karen was almost in the third trimester of pregnancy. She twirled her own long hair around her index finger. Kenny grinned, thinking about how Kevin was going to flip shit about her being pregnant. It would all be in the best possible way. Kenny brought his hand to his golden locks that were pulled back into a man bun, just the way Butters liked it and dug his fingernails into his scalp to rid himself of an itch._

_There was a loud buzz sound that echoed through the desolate area from the prison and the gate slowly started to crank open. Kenny's grin grew wider. He was going to see his brother after what he was certain was over eight years. Kevin had left home and didn't really ever come back, not that Kenny blamed him, but it would have been nice to hear from him a few times before he was thrown in prison. Kenny was fucking excited. Even Karen's bright blue eyes lit up as she watched through long, mascara-coated lashes. Karen grinned as she slid off the hood of the black truck and nimbly hit the ground. Her gray cardigan flowed around her like a cape as she wrapped her thin arms around her basketball belly._

_Walking past the gate as quickly as he could, Kevin reached into his pocket to pull out the old pack of cigarettes. He pondered momentarily if they would even be any good. Did cigarettes have expiration dates? He didn’t know but he wasn’t someone to waste something he’d spent money on. He pulled out one of the cigarettes and placed it to his mouth. It felt so natural to have the little stick resting between his lips. He began to search his pockets for a lighter but was unlucky enough to not find one. He grumbled angrily and pulled the cigarette from his lips._

_He sauntered up to the black pick-up truck that he knew Kenny was picking him up in and he looked up to see his sister and brother ready to greet him with warm, welcome arms. He gave a small smile, something that was rare for Kevin anymore, and shoved the cigarette back into the pack. He then put the pack back into his pocket and looked between his siblings._

_Kenny looked healthy, happy even, and the thought of Kenny living a good life made Kevin proud._

__

_Kevin turned his attention to look over Karen. She was taller than the last time he’d seen her and her face was bright, glowing even. He looked her up and down in observance of his little sister and he noticed her belly. His small smile grew, then, and he pointed at the swollen baby bump that belonged to Karen. “What the fuck is that?” He asked. His deep, gruff voice had a resonance of excitement to it. “Do I have to go kick an ass?”_

_"Oh this?" Karen teased as she glanced down at her belly. Her heart swelled with love. "This is your niece, Scout Broflovski and don’t go kicking any asses." She giggled happily._

 _Kenny chuckled and clapped a hand on Kevin's thick shoulder. "Yeah, you got a lot of catchin' up to do." He said with a bit of a drawl through his lips. Cigarette smoke filled the air as it left his mouth. Kenny looked over Kevin for a moment and laughed. "Holy fuck, dude. You got swole in there." He observed as he kneaded as Kevin's muscular shoulder. "Get fuckin' bored and decided to work out every fuckin' muscle?" He teased as he looked up at his older brother who stood a few inches above even him. He looked up to meet Kevin's gunmetal blue eyes with his own._

_Reaching out to grab hold of Kenny and Karen both, Kevin brought his siblings into a very tight hug. It was the first real semblance of contact that he'd had from his family in years and his heart, just like his muscles, grew. "So, I got a fuckin' niece on the way and some Broflovski is the sperm donor?" He asked Karen, bringing her tiny body in to kiss the top of her head. He turned his attention to Kenny, then, and nodded his head. "Not much to do in prison 'cept eat, shit, fuck, and exercise." He laughed._

_Karen couldn’t help but grin and Kenny reflected the same grin. There was no mistaking the beautifully attractive genes that flowed in the McCormick family._

_Kenny let out a chuckle. “Well, welcome back to the real fucking world, bro.” He replied with a wide grin on his face._

_Karen wrapped her arms tightly around her oldest brother’s waist and buried her face into his chest. “What do you wanna do first, Kev?” She asked as she pulled her face from his tight shirt and looked up at him._

_“Wanna eat some real food?” Kenny suggested and Kevin was quick to respond with a compliant grunt._

*~*~*~*

 **Achievement:** ‘Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.’ -Ralph Waldo Emerson.

 **Discipline:** ‘When a man is properly motivated, discipline will take care of itself.’-Sir Alexander Patterson.

 **Integrity:** ‘If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for anything.’-Malcolm X.

These motivational posters hung all over Kevin’s parole officer’s office. Kevin read them in peace as he waited for his PO to acknowledge that he had walked in and freely sat down. He was clad in a maroon button up shirt that was tucked into grey slacks and a pair of Converse high tops that looked to be tearing at the seams. The sole clapped against his foot whenever Kevin walked as well.

Mr. Wallace Quaid, Kevin’s parole officer, was sitting silently, writing in what appeared to be a journal. Kevin wasn’t sure if it was a personal journal or something that he had to keep for his job but either way, Kevin was growing impatient watching Quaid scribble on each paper.

Quaid’s face was halfway covered in a thick pair of black framed glasses that were obviously fake. The frames didn’t even have lenses in them. A sigh escaped his lips and he looked up to Kevin. “Mr. McCormick,” His voice was heavy with disdain for the tattooed man sitting in front of his desk. “I’ve checked in with your job and it seems that you’ve done well so far. Good job.” His pride in Kevin was certainly not evident in his tone of voice.

“Thank you,” Kevin said with a slight nod of his head.

“Don’t interrupt me.” Quaid glared at Kevin, making the ex-convict glare right back. Kevin couldn’t help it. His entire life he’d had a difficult time being able to control his facial expressions. “But even though you’re doing well and you’ve stayed clean this entire time, save for the ridiculous amount of cigarettes you smoke, I’m going to have to deny your request to go to your childhood home to be with your mother and brother at this time.”

Kevin’s eyes grew and he could feel his face heating up. He could even feel the tips of his ears becoming a bright red. “What you do you mean, you have to deny my request?” He asked. His voice wavered slightly. “It’s an emergency. My baby sister is missing. I need to be there with them.”

“I understand the urgency you feel for your family, Mr. McCormick, but six years ago you were caught with several kilograms of cocaine on your person. You fucked up back then and I don’t expect you to not fuck up now. You may not leave the county.”

Kevin’s face had started to match his maroon shirt but the color of his face appeared brighter thanks to the long, dirty blonde beard that covered half his face. He brought his bottom lip into his mouth to chew on it.

Quaid smiled. “Do you understand, Mr. McCormick?”

Biting hard onto his bottom lip, Kevin nodded his head. His blue eyes burned with fury for not being able to go see his family. He paused for a very long time, thinking carefully of the words he would reply back to his parole officer with. “I understand.” He said simply. “I can’t leave the county.”

*~*~*~*

Craig neatly folded his last blue tee shirt and zipped up his backpack. He was never one to really plan very well. He packed a couple shirts, jeans, underwear, socks, a toothbrush, and toothpaste: all the necessities. He turned around when he heard Tweek fidgeting behind him.

“ _Ngh!_ ” Tweek’s eyes twitched a bit as his frown lowered. “Man, what am I going to do? I can’t close the shop for a week!” We’ll never make ends meet! The shop has only been open for seven months, man! - _Ngh!_ -” His words all ran together so quickly that Craig almost had trouble wrapping his brain around them.

“Don’t close the shop, dude. Just stay here. I’ll go and be with Tricia.” Craig responded gently.

After calling Kenny and informing him about his sister, Tricia called her own brother. At that point, she had been a sobbing mess and Craig could barely make out half of what she was trying to tell him. She said Karen was missing and that she wanted Tweek and Craig there with her.

Tweek’s neck ticked to the side, “ _Ack!_ Tricia wants me there too, man! What am I going to tell her?” I don’t want to disappoint her! Oh man, _-ngh-_ , what am I going to do?”

Craig reached out, taking Tweek’s face into his large, calloused hands. “Honey.” He said gently as he dipped his head down to be eye level with his husband. Craig midnight blue eyes met with Tweek’s emerald orbs. “Everything will be okay. I’m going to help Tricia look for Karen. You stay here for a few days and we’ll close the shop for the weekend. You are the owner. You do what you want.” Craig reassured Tweek. “Trish will understand you taking a few days to get everything in order. Just put a sign out saying that due to a family emergency the shop is closed.”

While Craig spoke, Tweek felt his hammering heart begin to calm down. His face, which had turned a vibrant red, was slowly returning to its natural color.

“But I don’t want to be without you.” Tweek said sullenly.

A smile graced Craig’s lips and he pulled Tweek into his chest. Tweek’s senses were suddenly enveloped with the scent of cedar wood and menthol cigarettes. Tweek tried his hardest to not just melt into Craig’s chest.

“It’s not even three days.” Craig chuckled.

“I k-know, but I’ve never gone that long _-heunnggg-_ without seeing you. Not since, like, high school, man.”

Craig’s smile only grew.

“What?” Tweek asked nervously against Craig’s chest. His voice was just slightly muffled.

“You could have Pete run the shop for a few days.”

Tweek shook his head, almost frantically, against Craig’s chest. “No, no, no. I’m the owner. I have to be there. We are already short Butters. At least he made a large batch of scones and doughnuts before he left. He said he would be more than willing to bake stuff while he was gone but I don’t want him to have to do that and…”

Craig pulled Tweek away from his chest and brought him into a kiss before he could think of anything else to say. Tweek melted into the kiss, his twitching and fidgeting stopping instantly. When Craig pulled away, Tweek’s throat provided a lonely whine, missing the warmth that totally encompassed his husband.

"Feel a little better?” Craig asked, smiling coyly before turning to grab at his backpack from the bed. He picked it up and hoisted it up and over his shoulder. He wrapped his fingers tightly against the strap and looked back to Tweek. 

Sighing, Tweek nodded and bit his lips, peeling the chapped skin away with his teeth. “Yeah, man. I’ll take your advice. I’ll close the shop this weekend and I’ll c-come out to South Park at the end of the week. ” He said with a soft voice. His green eyes wandered over Craig’s body while he spoke. He placed his hands to the top of his head and pulled gently at his hair. It was going to be a few days without Craig. It had been such a long time since he’d been without his husband for more than just a few hours, it raised Tweek’s anxiety. “So, since you’ll be gone, will you make love to me before you leave?” 

Craig smiled as he loosened his grip from the backpack, letting it drop to the floor. “Okay, honey.” He said. He reached forward for Tweek’s hands, pulling them out of Tweek’s hair. He kept hold of Tweek’s smaller hands and showed his husband to their shared bed. 

*~*~*~*

Opening her eyes slowly, Karen was met with the hard face of darkness. She could scarcely make out the sound of movement close to her. She was lying down on what felt like a bed with a stiff comforter and a flimsy pillow. A deep, wavering breath exited her lungs and she groaned, reaching her right hand up to her head. Karen had an agonizing headache and she felt sick to her stomach. She hardly noticed when the weight of the bed shifted near the foot.

”You’re awake.”

Karen forced herself to look towards the voice. She recognized it, barely, but she definitely knew it from somewhere. At this point in time, however, she had no idea where she’d heard it.

“That’s good. I was starting worry.” The voice said again. “At the moment, worrying would be really bad for me.”

Dizziness washed over the pregnant teen as she tried to sit up. She couldn’t even fight back when she felt a warm, clammy hand grab hold of her bare ankle. “Let go.” Her voice was soft though hoarse. How long had she been out? “Where are we?” She asked, “Who are you?”

Karen heard a scoff come from the other person. He was obviously male and just by the feeling of his hand, he was heavy set. “I’m offended, Karen. I’ve only talked to you every day for the last several weeks.”

Knitting her dark eyebrows together, Karen licked her lips and thought for a moment. “Cartman?” She asked, perplexed. “Where are we?”

“That’s right.” Cartman said, still keeping hold of Karen’s ankle. His grip was hard against her leg. Karen could feel his fingernails digging into her skin. It hurt but she felt so disoriented, she didn’t have the energy to fight against the older man. “And you’re in a hotel room in the middle of Denver.” Karen could hear the smile in his voice. It made her feel sicker than she already felt. “Your brother should be going to South Park soon, if he hasn’t already, to look for you. It’s funny, you see, because you won’t be there.”

Shaking her head, Karen watched Cartman’s silhouette in the darkness. She could just barely make him out. She reached down her leg to grab at Cartman’s hand, wanting it off her. When her fingers grazed over his smooth skin, he squeezed harder and reached across with his other hand to slap her's away. She recoiled and placed her hand to her chest. “Why are you doing this?”

“I can’t tell you everything, baby McCormick.” Cartman chuckled. “Then I lose all interest because someone knows my plans and I can’t have that.” He finally let go of her leg and rose from the foot of the bed to walk over to the head. He stood in front of Karen and smiled. “I will tell you one thing, though.” He moved forward to grab hold of the small girl’s face, lightly tracing his thumbs over her cheekbones. “You’re mine for now and if you make a sound or try to escape me, I can guarantee that little fetus won’t see its own birthday.” He leaned forward and kissed Karen’s forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know...I truly believe that Kevin McCormick is extremely underrated and I want him to have some sort of major part in this...and I have a few ideas ;))
> 
> Also again thanks for all the comments and kudos!! I can't believe that this became my second most popular story in such a short time! I want to try and interact with you guys more. :DD Let me know what you guys think! Also, is there any one in particular you would like more background of? I have some little one offs posted for Creek, Style and Bunny. I eventually plan on posting Dip too :3
> 
> lemme know what you guys wanna see more of!


	4. Friendly Faces Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan at the McCormick residence and Stanley says dumb things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the long wait between chapters. I've been crazy busy with work lately :( So to make up for it, here's a long one. Um, just some warnings before reading, this chapter might contain some triggers like mentioned self-harm and mentioned suicide. 
> 
> As always though, I hope you guys like it!

“Sharon, oh my goodness did you hear?” Sheila Broflovski’s sharp, New Jersey accent screeched on the other end of the telephone line. “Another son of the McCormick’s is missing.” 

“Kenny? He lives with Stan and Kyle, Sheila.” Sharon retorted to the gossip. “He can’t possibly be missing.”

“That’s not what I heard, but I think we should all go and pay our respects to Carol. She must be having a tough go of things, what with Stuart being in prison and all.”

Sharon let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, you are right. I’ll start cooking then.” She grumbled a valediction and put the cordless home phone back on its receiver after hanging up with Sheila.

“Sharon? Who was on the phone?” Randy called out from the kitchen table as he lifted his eyes from the newspaper, sipping his Tweak coffee gingerly. The warmth of the bitter liquid burned the back of his throat as it went down.

“That was Sheila gossiping with incorrect facts again. She wants us to go over to Carol’s and pay our respects. Stanley told me this morning about Karen’s disappearance. That poor girl.”

“Oh my god, the pregnant McCormick girl is missing? Carol must be devastated!” Randy exclaimed as he tossed his newspaper to the table and stood up. “Bake your best casserole, Sharon! We have respects to pay and we’ll do it the PC way!” He announced as he bound from the table, through the living room, and up the stairs to begin getting ready.

Sharon let out another sigh and rolled her eyes as she pulled out a deep Pyrex dish to start her casserole.

*~*~*~*

Scalding hot water poured down Kyle’s back and shoulders in an almost soothing manner. Crimson locks rippled like molten lava down the nape of his neck and almost reached his shoulders. He rinsed the soap suds from his body and let out a groan. The hot water did wonders to his tense muscles but could not seem to soothe his train of thought. Similar to working cogs in a machine, his mind geared towards some sort of plan of action. Was he going to text Cartman? Kenny messaged Kyle and informed him that there was still no information on Karen’s whereabouts. Kyle lifted his chin and soaked his face under the hot water, almost as punishment for his indecisiveness. What the fuck was he going to do? How could he help speed up the process? His thoughts trailed into what Cartman said the day he stalked him in the grocery store a few weeks ago:

_“Of fucking course, you didn’t notice. You were too busy thinking of this self-centered asshole.” Cartman scoffed as he gestured towards Stan. “Which is why I think you deserve everything that’s coming your way.”_

_Kyle lifted an eyebrow, “What do you have planned?”_

_Cartman observed him and smiled a dark smile; one that seemed to have meaning that had been there for a coon’s age. “I have a bed with your name on it, Broflovski.” He said with a grin. “I won’t stop until you are chained to it.”_

The words sent chills down Kyle’s spine. He knew Cartman was involved in kidnapping Karen and he knew why. He could, figuratively, feel his stomach drop. It was like he was digesting a giant stone. Cartman wanted Kyle to text him. Fucking fatass. Kyle couldn’t possibly tell Stan. He was already on lock down for the past three months. It had only gotten worse after Cartman showed his fat, stupid face. Stan would never, ever let him negotiate with Cartman. ‘He’s a fucking terrorist.’ Stan would say. Kyle felt the water finally cooling as he came to his conclusion. He would give destiny two days. If Karen wasn’t found, he would text Cartman. He turned, stooped over and twisted off the water and grabbed a towel from the nearby sink. His stomach was doing convulsions at his own decision. He sure hoped fate would be good to him.

“That’s probably the longest shower you’ve ever taken.” Kyle heard Stan’s voice as he pulled back the plastic shower curtain and it caused his heart to leap into his throat. He grabbed the towel that hung by the shower and swiftly covered himself as the bathroom door opened. Kyle’s glaring eyes met Stan’s blue orbs.

“Were you timing me?” Kyle scowled as he pulled the towel towards his face and began to dry off.

Stan let out a low chuckle, “Not exactly, but I went to wash my hands in the kitchen sink and noticed there wasn’t any hot water.”

“So, what? You gonna give me a lecture about the luxuries of living in a first world country and how I should use water more sparingly?” Kyle accused while raising a thick, red eyebrow.

Stan rolled his dark eyes as he crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest and propped himself against the frame of the bathroom door. “Dude,” He began as he took in a relaxed breath of the thickly steamed air. “You are the one that likes giving the lectures. Not me.” He mused in a gentle voice.

He still wore his, now more of a dusty grey, black police uniform. He must have just gotten off work, Kyle concluded, from the state of his uniform. Stan’s eyebrows knitted together with worry as he watched Kyle who had already broken eye contact to dry himself off. Seeing the vein throbbing in Kyle’s temple and noticing his entire body was colored rose from the hot shower, Stan would admit that he was a little concerned for his super best friend. Sometimes Stan tended to be unintentionally dense but he wasn’t _that_ goddamn stupid. He knew Kyle better than he knew himself and that had to count for something. His eyes sculpted out the rest of Kyle’s body as the other man stepped out of the shower and bent over to dry off his calves. He knew the curves of Kyle’s body and where each cluster of freckles covered his pale skin. He fucking loved ivy tattoo Kyle had gotten on his entire upper left arm while Stan was serving in Afghanistan. Kyle wasn’t necessarily body shy but when it came to his freckles, he didn’t like them being fussed over. Cartman ruined that years ago by pointing them out and harassing Kyle every time he wore a low enough collared shirt for the ones on his neck and chest to be seen. Stanley fucking loved them though. Every single one of them and Kyle’s kinky-curly red hair. He couldn’t imagine having to fucking hand this gorgeous man over to Cartman, like the fatass fucking wanted. Fucking terrorist…seriously, fuck that guy. Stan cleared his throat to free his mind. The damn steam made it intensely muggy in the small bathroom and brought down his mood.

“Rough day?” Stan finally inquired and Kyle hesitated in the middle of moving back up his right thigh; the plush pink towel drooped from immobility.

Stan tried to ignore the flutter of his heart as those sea green eyes, in contrast to his pale skin and faint freckles, reached his own. Stan had to take a moment to remember that he needed oxygen to live but those damn eyes made him think maybe going without would be fine. The dark, juniper green leaves of the ivy that scaled from his inner elbow all the way to the top of his freckle covered shoulders seemed to glow brilliantly along with his stunning eyes.

“…Erm…” Kyle started slowly as he stalled for time to search for the right words to say. “Yeah, man. Today fucking sucked.” He replied with honesty and a little shrug. “I’ve been on edge all day.”

Nodding his head in acknowledgement, Stan tried to hide the fact that he was actually excited that Kyle was sharing. Kyle wasn’t an introvert by any means but getting him to talk about any other emotion other than something that made him aggressive was like pulling teeth. It seemed like Stan was competing to be Kyle’s super best friend again since he returned home from service; unfortunately, Stan felt that he was competing with his younger self. He and Kyle had a rocky friendship since they were 10 and even though they claimed to be best friends, they were always pissed at each other for something stupid. There were times in which Stan felt like their relationship would never be what it was in the past. Seeing as how Kyle was naked in front of him shamelessly, he could see he had been right.

“I get that.” Stan agreed finally. “It has been a hard day. Look…kids go missing all the time. She’ll turn up.”

Kyle’s eyes light aflame as he stared. He’d stopped drying himself, stunned at Stan. His red brows starting to curl forward into a furrow. _Uh Oh_. Stan suddenly regretted the words instantly. _Jesus Christ, here we go._

“ _Dude_ , how could you _say_ that?” Kyle replied back sharply. “This is Karen we are talking about for Christ’s sake! Not some random goddamn teenager.”

Rolling his eyes so hard Stan was surprised he didn’t see him stumble, Kyle went back to drying himself off in sharp, angry jolts. Once he felt like he had nothing else to dry, he chunked the damp towel into the sink before trying to make his way through Stan to get to the bathroom door. Luckily, Stan had his large stature on his side. Stan groaned as he threw out his arms to block Kyle from leaving.

“Move, dude.” Kyle growled.

Stan, despite being in the middle of a fight with his super best boyfriend, felt a sharp pang straight to his dick when Kyle used that voice. Stan ignored it though and watched Kyle with tired blue eyes. “Man, look. I’m sorry.” He sighed out in a defeated voice. “I can’t help but think Kenny is right and Cartman is behind all of this. I’ve been fucking thinking about it all goddamn day. The problem is that I can’t figure out a motive.”

*~*~*~*

The living room of the McCormick household was small compared to most the other residences in the podunk mountain town. Since Carol repainted a few times and the walls weren’t completely torn up and covered in drunken graffiti, the little home was kind of cozy. Regardless of the broken family that had lived there, since everyone had moved out and on, it seemed almost welcoming.

Carol sat on an upholstered couch that wasn’t stained with beer and cigarette burns. The couch was a hand-me-down from the Broflovski family after Sheila had learned of Stuart being thrown in prison. Carol accepted it because, in a tweaked-out stupor, Stuart had taken their old couch outside and set it ablaze. It was a win for the Broflovskis because they had just gotten a whole new set of living room furniture and, as Sheila assumed, a win for the McCormick clan because, well, they didn’t have a couch. _What’s better than a win/win situation, Carol?_

The matriarch’s hands rested on her forehead and covered her eyes. The ceiling light was turned off in attempts to ease the migraine she was sure she’d given herself over the last few days. Her eyes were red, puffy, and raw so it could only be assumed that she’d been crying while no one was paying attention to her. She was acting strong and Butters wasn’t sure if it was for Kenny’s sake or her own. Even through this situation, though, Butters had to admit to being quite impressed. Through the entire day, she hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol and had yet to partake in any illegal substances. The worst she’d done was smoke her cheap cigarettes outside as to not ruin the paintjob. What Butters was less than impressed with, however, was the lack of actual food in the house.

He and Kenny discovered earlier that day, right after they’d arrived, that the electricity bill had just been paid up to date and the water was running. That was a good sign. Carol was spending her hard-earned cash on the bills instead of narcotics and alcohol. Catching up on all these bills, Butters thought, probably left Carol behind on groceries. It was just her in the house he assumed she wasn’t trying to do much for herself. All Butters could find were two single cans of generic brand soup, a box of waffles in the freezer, and a half-eaten loaf of bread in the pantry. The lack of food broke Butters’ heart so he had sat down to make a list of groceries for the tiny not-so-dilapidated home. His plan was to feed Carol, Kenny, and himself and to show Carol that she was worth more than just a can of soup a day.

Butters started to write ‘pot roast’ but was interrupted before the second word by the sound of a knock at the door. He looked up from the list and moved to stand. He didn’t want Carol to have to answer the door, being aware of her intense headache. He took small, quick strides from the kitchen table to the front door and opened it to find Sheila and Gerald Broflovski, along with their son Ike, Randy and Sharon Marsh, Laura and Thomas Tucker, some random adults from around town like Jimbo and Officer Barbrady, and most surprisingly, his own parents, Stephen and Linda Stotch. The lot of them were carrying something that looked and smelled like food. Butters’ pale blue eyes widened and gave the crowd of parents a bright smile, attempting to not make eye contact with his own parents. “W-well, good afternoon, everyone!” He said before turning around to look at Carol, who had glanced up from her hands. “Mrs. McCo… er, Carol, ya got some visitors bringing ya a lot of yummy smellin’ food.”

Carol paused for a moment before standing up to greet everyone. She looked over at Butters and gave him a small smile. “Butters, honey, why dontcha be a darlin’ an’ flick on the light switch so we can invite these people into a bright home?” Her voice was friendly in spite of the tired look in her eyes.

While Butters did as he was asked, Sheila led the group to push their way into the McCormick house. She looked around and grinned. “Carol, I really love what you’ve done with the place.”

Sharon nodded her head as she followed Sheila inside. “I agree. Its so homey.” She gave a bright, genuine smile. She handed the casserole over to Randy and she went up to Carol, embracing her in a warm hug. Sharon could feel Carol’s breath hitch and decided to pull away to look her in the face. She reached up to grasp Carol’s arms and she squeezed them tightly, affectionately. “We were so sorry to hear what happened to Karen.” She pulled away from Carol completely and took the green bean casserole she’d made from her husband before looking back to the sad mother. “We all made you some food. Where would you like us to put it?”

“Well,” Carol began, “I s’pose you can put it in the kitchen.” She looked around her at all the people that had come into her home. Her heart grew in size as she thought about how kind everyone was to make her something in this trying time.

Looking to Sharon, Sheila piped up, “C’mon Sharon, let’s go find a place for all this food.”

Stephen looked over at Butters and clapped a hand to his son’s left shoulder. “Butters, why don’t you help the women take food in the kitchen? Remember to organize it alphabetically so Mrs. McCormick can find it easily in her fridge, okay?”

Butters had closed the door behind all the parents that had come into the modest living area. He had been leaning against it, watching and listening to everyone’s exchanges with each other. Once his father spoke to him though, he felt his entire back tense up. He suddenly felt like he was living with them again. The urge to not upset his father washed over his entire body so he stood up straight, looked his father in the eye and gave a quick ‘yes, sir’ before moving to gently take whatever it was that his mother had cooked from her hands. He swiftly moved through the crowd and headed to the kitchen with Sheila, Sharon, and Laura.

Meanwhile, Kenny sifted through the medicine cabinet and even some of the cabinet under the sink to find something, anything really, that he could use to his advantage. He could swallow bleach maybe? The more he lingered on the thought, the more he realized that wasn’t a way he had died yet and wasn’t so sure he wanted to experience that one. The only real medication he found was tricyclic anti-depressants that were prescribed to his mother from a doctor in town. Kenny was honestly shocked that his mother wasn’t abusing the stuff already. The bottle advised to take one pill a day before breakfast and it was 65mg. Kenny could take like 50 of them and maybe send himself to an early grave. Kenny rolled his eyes and shoved the orange pill bottle back in its placed and slammed the glass door closed. He stared at himself hard in the mirror. What kind of person would he be to leave Butters at a time like this? Then again, his sister needed him and he had always been there for her. Not this time. Guilt seemed to set his gut on fire. He heard commotion outside the bathroom door and Kenny raised a blonde eyebrow. He opened the bathroom door and heard people chitchatting, which threw Kenny off. People didn’t make it a habit to just come over to the McCormick house. Kenny moved down the hall and found the living room packed full of people. He moved through the familiar faces, gently touching people as he slithered passed them as he looked for Butters and his mother. He smelled food and his eyes fell on the Stotch’s. Kenny felt his face grow hot and his brow furrowed. He sure hoped that Stephen hadn’t seen Butters yet. With the overwhelming feeling to protect his lover, Kenny passed through into the kitchen undetected and found Butters staring at the food and swapping them around as he put them in order. Kenny’s heart fell as he wrapped his strong arms around Butters’ waist and kissed the top of his platinum blonde hair. “What are you doing, Buttercup?” He asked into Butters’ ear. “Please don’t tell me Stephen put you up to this.” He pleaded gently.

Letting out a nervous sigh, Butters nodded his head. He felt warm in Kenny’s masculine arms and he placed his hands to his lover’s forearms, squeezing them lightly. He maneuvered his head so that he could look up to his freckled boyfriend and he gave a defeated sigh. “Well, gee, Ken. I haven’t put anythin’ in alphabetical order in a real long time.” He said with a soft voice. “O’course he put me up to it.” He let his grip on Kenny’s forearms go as he went back to placing Jimbo’s mustard potato salad in front of Ned’s red potato salad on the counter. “I mean, ya did try to break me o’ that habit a while back.” He admitted as he tried to tell whether he should put the bowl of green beans and bacon in front of the green bean casserole or behind it. _Why were there so many dishes with green beans?_ Butters was so focused on the food that he didn’t hear the sound of rustling paper behind him.

What he did hear, though, was a boisterous “What, what WHAT?” followed by a semi-concerned, “What is it now Sheila?” from Sharon.

“This grocery list!” Sheila lifted the piece of paper that Butters had composed the list on not too long ago. “The very last item on here. Its pot, Sharon!”

Sharon’s eyes narrowed and she set down the paper towels that Ned Gerblansky brought on the counter by the sink. She walked over to Sheila and eyed the items written on the loose-leaf sheet of paper. “My, my, it does…” She looked to Sheila, then to Butters and Kenny. “Do either of you know about this?” She asked.

Turning to face the adults, Butters nodded his head. “Well, y-you see, that’s supposed to be…” He began but was cut off by Sheila rushing back into the living room with a shrill sound in her voice.

“She’s buying marijuana!” Sheila shouted.

Officer Barbrady looked up. He’d sat down on the couch with Carol to rub her back soothingly. He shook his head and pointed out, “Marijuana isn’t illegal in Colorado anymore, Mrs. Broflovski.” This caused a large smile to cross over both Gerald and Randy’s faces.

“I know that, Barbrady, but she’s out trying to buy it while her child is missing!” Sheila exclaimed. “I wouldn’t doubt if she tried to sell her son for heavier drugs since she’s known to be a drug addict. She used to make methamphetamines, you know!”

Ike looked at his mother in shame and shook his head. “Ma, calm down. Mrs. McCormick’s been clean for over four months now.” He said, “Besides, its Karen that’s missing. Not Kevin or Kenny.”

Sheila could feel her face and ears turn a bright red to match the color of her beehive styled hair. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm, young man!” She yelled at her sixteen-year-old son. “Officer Barbrady, this woman is a drug addict who would do anything to get a little high.”

It was at this moment that Kenny couldn’t take anymore. He let go of Butters and both of them moved to the front room where Sheila was ranting.

Butters’ voice was shaking when he tried to speak up over Sheila. “N-now listen here,” He’d started. “I was the one writin’ that…”

Stephen shook his head and grabbed hold of Butters’ arm. “Don’t you start up, young man.”

Kenny looked to Stephen, placing his hand on the older man’s sleeve. He ripped Stephen’s arm from Butters, glaring at him before he looked over at his mother. Officer Barbrady had made her stand up from the couch, hand on her shoulder. All the adults were watching, unmoving to help Carol out or defend her honor. Kenny grew angry as he shoved Stephen’s arm towards the older man and began to advance towards Carol. “Everyone needs to calm the fuck down. She hasn’t done a fuckin’ thing…”

Out of nowhere it seemed, Jimbo and Ned had looked at each other and pulled out handguns they’d concealed in the back of their pants. “It’s comin’ right for us!” Everyone heard both men yell and three total shots were fired.

It wasn’t quite clear where the shots had landed until the sound of a thud hit the floor and a wail escaped Carol’s already sore throat. Two in the chest from Jimbo and one in the throat from Ned; Kenny crumpled forward, landing face down on the carpeted floor. A gasp escaped his mouth and blood sputtered from his lips and down his chin.

Stunned, it took Butters a moment, but as soon as he felt his legs he rushed over to his boyfriend. He knelt down beside him, the knees of his jeans soaking up the blood that had started to pour from Kenny. Tears stung his eyes as they began to fall and he grabbed hold of Kenny’s shoulders. He pulled his lover up into his chest, holding his head tightly against him. “Kenny…K-Ken. Stay with me now, okay? S-stay with me…”

Kenny laughed, feeling blood gurgle in the back of his throat. He attempted a smile as he reached his hand up to stroke lightly at Butters’ face. “Don’t worry, Buttercup.” His voice was hoarse, barely audible. “I’ve died worse.” Kenny chuckled. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Tears fell down Butters’ face and landed on his lover’s paling skin. He felt sick, immobile, and completely at fault. If he’d just finished writing the word ‘roast,’ all of this could have been prevented. Kenny was dying. Sheila was starting things. How could he not worry?

Officer Barbrady looked around and then to Carol. She had fallen to her knees and grabbed hold of Kenny’s torn up blue jeans. Her grasp was so tight against the denim that her knuckles had turned a ghostly white. The police officer sighed deeply and shot Ned and Jimbo a dirty look. He patted Carol’s shoulder again gently before looking up to the shocked adults.

“We yelled that he was comin’ for us, Barbrady, you can’t do nothin’. We was defendin’ ourselves.” Jimbo piped up, though he seemed just as stunned as the other adults.

“Mmm damn straight.” Came Ned’s robotic voice.

Taking in a deep breath, Barbrady shook his head. “Yeah, you’re right, I can’t do nothin’.” He stated. “But now this poor woman has lost two kids.” He looked around the room one more time before giving his final announcement in the angriest voice someone as soft hearted as Barbrady could muster. “Everyone needs to get out of this house now and leave this poor family alone.”

Butters felt the hand that had stroked his face drop. He leaned his head forward and began to kiss softly at the lifeless body of his boyfriend. During those gentle kisses through soft sobs, Butters could have sworn that he heard Kenny’s last breath escape his lips. He left more kisses against Kenny’s skin and held onto him tightly, not wanting to let go. He faintly heard the shuffling of feet leaving the house, Sheila muttering to Sharon or Gerald or someone. Butters didn’t really care enough to listen to closely.

A hand landed on Butters’ shoulder and the sound of his father burned his ears. “Come on now, Butters. We should probably get you out of here.”

Without looking up, Butters gave Kenny a kiss on the lips. He paused for moment and shrugged Stephen’s hand off his shoulder. The young man took in a deep breath and licked his lips, tasting the salt from the plethora of tears that were still falling from his snowy eyes. “Ya know what, Dad?” He said, his voice soft but firm. “I’m _stayin’_ with Kenny. He told me he’d be back so why don’t you just _fuck off_?”

An easy hand was placed to Stephen’s back. He recognized it immediately as Linda. Butters heard his mom whisper something to his father and then the shuffling of their feet as they walked out the door.

All he could hear now was the sound of Carol crying and his own unsteady breathing. _No fucking way was he going to leave his Kenny._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That ending though :( :( :( made myself tear up as I was writing it. I didn't want to mention Kenny's death in the beginning notes because that basically would have given the entire chapter away. :,)) But! It is Kenny, so he vill be back *insert Terminator voice*. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading. Its been a crazy ride so far but it's been fun writing. From this point forward, I'm going to TRY to have a better set schedule for posting chapters. I'm curious to know what you guys think so as always, comments are very appreciated and so are Kudos. :) Ciao.


	5. Humble Folks without Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny's dead, Ike refuses to join the crowd, Craig arrives at his parents' house, and Karen finds her legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for anyone that hasn't read [The Importance of Religion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091489), I've basically made Hell an omegaverse. South Park and Earth as a whole is not an omegaverse but Hell is... and the only Earth-dweller that is aware of this is Kenny. :)

Solemnly, Ike followed behind his parents as they exited his best friend’s childhood home. His too-long obsidian locks hung in his face as his cobalt eyes watched the ground pass underneath him. Once he reached his parents’ brand new, fancy, whatever the hell make and model of eco car, the sixteen-year-old grabbed hold of the handle to open the passenger side door for the back seat. He pursed his lips before pulling them into his mouth, puffing his cheeks out in thought. He looked away from the vehicle back to Karen’s house and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d held in. His heart was hurting and his parents had no idea. There were so many things they didn’t know, so many incredible secrets that Canadian had never told them. One of those secrets was so large, in fact, that it would blow their world apart if they were to find out. The house looked better now than it had when he and Karen were younger. It was so dilapidated, in fact, that Ike could remember he and his brother, Kyle, not being able to visit very often as children. Karen, Ike, and Tricia Tucker would always play at either Ike’s or Tricia’s house. It seemed as though the McCormick home was some sort of out-of-bounds area that their parents all set for them. The McCormick house was all lava back then. It wasn’t like that anymore. 

“Bubbeleh,” The sound of his mother’s voice broke Ike’s train of thought. He looked toward the passenger side of the front seat and stared at his mom who had rolled down her window. “Go ahead and get in, Ike.” There was a short pause. “I’m going to have your father cut your hair when we get home.” She said. Her voice was almost gentle. “It’s gotten so long, Bubi. No good ever came from a teenager with long hair.”

The youngest Broflovski watched his mother before looking up to see his father’s disinterested face. He felt himself blink the heaviest blink he’d ever remembered blinking before shaking his head. “Ya know, Ma, I like my hair.” He said, taking his hand off the door handle. “And I think I’m going to stay here with Butters and Mrs. McCormick.”

Shaking her head, Sheila stated, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ike.”

“Why?” Retorted the teen.

“Because it’s…time to go home.” Came a reply that made Ike roll his cobalt eyes so far back in his head that he was afraid he could see his brain.

“Well, if that’s the only excuse you can think of for me not to stay here, then I can’t find a valid reason to go home with you right now.”

Sheila looked offended, downright betrayed almost, as a gasp escaped her lips and she shook her head. Her beehive hair moved side to side with her head. “Isaac Moishe Broflovski, you get in the car this instant.” Her voice was eerily calm but she’d thrown out Ike’s full name. She meant business. Unfortunately for Sheila, Ike did too. She’d been the one to raise him so it was no doubt that he would get some of this attitude from her. When Ike didn’t respond to her, she turned to stare, mouth agape at the man sitting in the driver’s seat. “Gerald! Make him get in the car.” She demanded of her husband.

It took everything in Gerald to not roll his own dark brown eyes. The balding lawyer looked, defeatedly, outside the passenger side window. “Why do you want to stay here anyway, son?”

The teen looked towards his dad and took in a deeply drawn breath, holding it for a moment. His eyes shifted between his mom and dad, almost unsure if he should tell them. He almost couldn’t believe how out of touch his parents were with his personal life but Ike knew that he kept them from it for a reason. Karen was his best friend, though, and they knew that so what was the big deal with staying with his best friend’s family?

Apparently, the pause was too long for Sheila and, ever impatient, she demanded: “Well, Ike, spit it out.”

Cobalt eyes focusing directly on his mother, unappreciative of his mother’s tone of voice. “Well, Mother,” the teen spat, anger bubbling up in his chest. “Karen’s my best friend…and she’s pregnant.” He explained.

Sheila looked at Ike, confused, wondering what that had to do with why he wanted to stay at the McCormick house. “Ike, Karen isn’t here, honey, and there’s a dead boy in the living room.”

Licking his lips, Ike took in another deep breath and he shook his head. “No, Ma.” He stopped himself, wanting to scream at her, wanting to shake his mother for her ignorance. He had to keep reminding himself that he was the reason she knew nothing of the goings-on around them. “I need to stay here. Even if Karen’s not here, right now, I need to stay with her mom.”

“The car is running, son, get in.” Gerald said. His attitude had become slightly more interested in the conversation happening with his youngest child and wife.

Letting out a quaking exhale, Ike looked up toward the evening sky. This was it. This was the time he’d let them know what he’d done. He should have done it so much sooner and he kicked himself for not letting this secret out when it should have been told. “Ma, Dad…” The sixteen-year-old looked back toward his parents. “Karen’s pregnant.” He repeated, “And the baby’s mine.”

Shock, for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night, passed over both Gerald’s and Sheila’s faces. Ike could see anger, curiosity, and disappointment spread simultaneously over both his parents’ demeanors.

“So, I’m staying here.” Ike told his parents, observing their expressions for a moment before turning on his heel to head back inside the small, old house.

*~*~*~*

Craig took a deep breath as he turned the door knob of his younger sister’s bedroom door. As he pushed the door opened and looked into her bedroom, it was swallowed in darkness. The sound of heavy sniffling came to his ears and his bland expression fell into a small frown. Tricia had a candle lit on her bedside table, Craig noticed as his eyes adjusted to the sudden contrast in light.

“Craigory.” Tricia whimpered from her bed and she lifted up her arms, greeting him somberly.

Craig didn’t reply back but slid his backpack off his shoulder to the carpeted floor as he closed the door behind him. He traveled across the room in a few large strides and scooped up his sister into his arms and held her as he sat on her bed. Tricia bawled even harder against his broad chest, listening to Craig’s calm heartbeat to try and comfort herself. Craig was never certain what to do in these situations but he treated her the same way as he did Tweek when he would have a bad episode. He rubbed a large, gentle hand against her shoulder blades and shushed her consolingly. He especially wasn’t used to his sister crying. The Tuckers were never a very expressive family and seeing this vulnerable side of his sister made him a little uncomfortable. He didn’t want to do something that would push her away or make her feel worse; at the same time, she wasn’t Tweek which made his understanding of the situation more difficult. In the breast pocket of his jacket his phone vibrated. Tricia jumped a little but her sobs softened to whimpers as she moved her hand into Craig’s pocket to nosily take out his phone.

“T-Tweek.” Was all she said through sobbing hiccups.

Craig pulled his head back as he reached for his phone with his arm once he made sure she was secure in his lap. The pad of his thumb slid across the screen and the text message popped up.

_How is she?_

READ - 8:21pm

Craig lifted a dark, thick eyebrow at his sister whom he caught eyeing the screen. Her eyes lit up when her blue eyes met Craig’s. She took in a much-needed deep breath and finally nodded in response.

_She is better now._

SENT – 8:22pm

Craig put the phone back in its designated spot in his jacket and moved his arm back around his sister. She rested her head back on his chest and once again attended to the sound of Craig’s heartbeat. His heart thumped healthily and it gave her some comfort. Although she never spoke of it, she worried about his heart condition constantly. Craig had been diagnosed with Coronary Artery Disease when he was ten-years-old after he and his friends played super heroes. Something about the fat kid stabbing him with a large needle and it damaged his coronary artery. He spent two weeks in the hospital for Cartman’s carelessness. It comforted her to hear something so soothing and at peace. It began to lull her off to sleep which she hadn’t done since she found Karen missing. It hadn’t even been twelve hours yet, to Tricia’s knowledge, but it felt like it must have at least been a week. Once Craig noticed the heavy breathing he immediately recognized as sleep, he kicked off his converse and moved in her bed until he was leaning against her headboard. One thing that hadn’t changed about Trish was that she was an incredibly heavy sleeper. Craig’s phone went off again and he lightly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, once again gliding his thumb across the screen to open the text from Tweek.

_Good. I’m glad…but I really miss you. It’s not the same here without you. :(_

READ - 8:45pm

Craig snapped a picture of Trish asleep in his arms, his face in the direction of the camera yet he maintained a tired, emotionless countenance.

_*pic sent*_

SENT – 8:46pm

_It’ll be okay, Honey. You’ll be coming in a few days. :) Trish is asleep. I think I’m going to be stuck like this for a while._

SENT - 8:47pm

*~*~*~*

Karen shuffled through the dark room and scaled her hands along the wall, feeling the bubbles in the assuredly obnoxious wallpaper. She’d had to pee for over an hour and although she was terrified to leave the bed Cartman had left her on, she finally couldn’t hold it anymore. Scout Broflovski was pressing right up against her bladder. All she really needed was to find the light switch so she could see where the hell she was going. Her fingertips grazed the corner of a wall and she exhaled carefully. _Why the hell is the bathroom so far away? Or the damn light for that matter?_ Frustrated, Karen turned back around and retraced her steps back to the comfort of her bad that she hadn’t left in at least five or six hours. She wasn’t even sure how long she had been knocked out and hidden in this room. She blinked a few times in hopes of her eyes adjusting to the dark, but no such luck. She blew out her cheeks in a huff, her lips pouting as she craned her head to the left and felt along side the edge of the bed. Her fingertips carefully skimmed the starchy comforter of the bed and she found her hand running between the bed and what could have only been a bedside table. Usually there were corded phones on these tables in hotels. She grasped wildly in the dark, shoving her hands over the table, but the table top was empty except a thick, faux-leather covered book. She could only assume it was the Holy Bible. Ironically, she felt like spewing a list of cuss words. Of course, there would be a Bible in place of where real help would be. Living with the parents she had, in the town they lived in, she lost her faith at a young age. She knew Heaven and Hell existed through the stories Kenny told of going to both planes but she was certain there was no such thing as being saved. Karen shook her head and moved her hands up the back wall, behind the table and her fingernails grazed a metallic disc. In the middle of the metallic disc was a knob and she pressed it.

Blinding light sabotaged her eyes and she squeezed them shut. Even under her salmon colored eyelids she saw the remnants of that bright bulb under the wall mounted light fixture. Once she gained the confidence, she turned her head away from the light dead on and peered through her light-colored lashes to take in her surroundings for the first time. It was so much smaller in the light than it had felt in the dark.

“Bathroom!” She whispered and put a hand over her swollen belly before waddling with quick, impatient steps to the restroom. It irked Karen because the room was not too far off from where she’d given up her search to go back to the bed. Had Karen taken just a few more steps around the corner she’d felt before returning to the mattress, she would have been able to complete her goal.

When she pushed the door open, it was also drowning in darkness and she tasted a bitter, sour flavor on her tongue as she quickly smashed the palm of her hand against the inner wall of the room to find the light switch. Scared the darkness was going to swallow her whole, she frantically waved her hand along the wall until she smacked her fingers against the light switch and the blinding light came forth and blessed her. “Thank God.” She muttered sarcastically before making her way to the toilet.

Once she completed her business she decided to take a long, warm shower and think to herself about how she was going to try and escape. She may be pregnant but dammit, she was a McCormick! They were notorious for being stubborn and living through extreme situations.

*~*~*~*

Travelling downward, Kenny gathered information of his surroundings. His trips down to Hell were always a little awkward as he looked across the expanse of each layer as he moved quickly past the demons that belonged in designated areas of the Underworld. He could see disdain on demonic creatures’ faces as he hurtled down below their specific layer. It was especially once he went by Wrath and Envy that he saw how upset some of these demons were that Kenny, still with a human appearance, was able to traffic deeper into Hell. Typically, as Kenny had come to notice over many visits within this realm, the body’s appearance all depended on how evil the person was during their stint on Earth. The crazier fact was that all creatures knew exactly who was who, despite their change in appearance in the NetherRealm.

Kenny knew already where he was headed. It was where he ended up every time he visited Hell. Layer Ten, where Satan and Damien resided. The tenth layer was, oddly, similar to medieval Earth in many customs. There were class systems set up and Lucifer himself was like a monarch. He was labeled as the King of Darkness after all. Satan had a council in which he would sit down and deliberate different plans for dominion over Earth and wars with Heaven and at his right hand was Damien, the anti-Christ and his son. Early on in his adventures in Hell, Kenny had befriended the anti-Christ. They were so close, in fact, that Damien had even convinced his father to give Kenny his own little home down in the tenth layer. Kenny received special treatment from anti-Christ and Lord of the Underworld alike. Ofttimes, Kenny felt he was treated better in Hell than on Earth. Down in the Netherworld, there was no bullshit and that was something Kenny could appreciate.

Once Kenny landed, actually on his feet which he’d been practicing since he was twelve-years-old, he took in his surroundings. He’d settled inside what looked like a barrier that surrounded Damien’s Earth-like living quarters. The barrier was fence-like in appearance but it seemed much sturdier. The bars were made of, as it appeared to Kenny, black iron and they had to have stood maybe nine feet tall. Each tip of the iron bars was sharpened to a point. Kenny tilted his head and thought _That wasn’t there the last time he was here_. Kenny shrugged it off and let a small smile spread across his lips as he remembered Pip telling him once that the reason their house looked the way it did, despite Damien denying the fact entirely, was because Pip missed Earth. The abode was even built to drown out the sound of recently deceased people falling into a river comparable to the River Styx that circled the evil kingdom. This was also done for Pip considering he couldn’t manage to get an erection or become slick whenever he could hear the screams except during heat. The smile that had spread over Kenny’s lips disappeared just as quickly as it had spread, though, as he marched toward Damien’s door; heavy, steel-toed boots leaving footprints of Kenny’s presence behind. Kenny raised his hand to knock on the door and looked around for a moment as leering eyes began to stare at him from between the bars of the iron fence. He watched those eyes, all in assortments of color, for a moment before knocking on the door again. He’d been around the Underworld enough that he was no longer afraid of the villains that surrounded him. Hell, Kenny wasn’t afraid of much anymore, but the eyes watching him were just goddamn rude. He heaved a sigh and went to reach for the doorknob. A chuckle escaped his lips when the knob turned and he slowly pushed open the painted white door. Pip was always forgetting to lock the front door. It was the foyer doors leading into the house that would be a bit trickier.

Walking into the foyer and kicking off his boots thanks to Pip’s rule about no shoes inside the actual house. He was there for that conversation.

_“Seriously, Phillip, you’re in Hell. Why do shoes need to be taken off?”_

_“Because you’ll get gross demon goo all over the place. I don’t know what you do out there, Damien, but I’d like to keep our house looking nice and I can’t do that when you’re tracking Netherworld gunk into the house.”_

_“…Fine.”_

Kenny reached into his pocket and pulled out some bobby pins and a small screwdriver that he carried around with him everywhere. He’d had this habit since he was really young to carry tools for lock picking. He placed the bobby pin in the lock, followed by the screwdriver and began to fidget with them both until he heard movement and the lock clicked. Kenny twisted the knob for the glass door and grinned triumphantly when it swung open. Kenny stood up and moved into the front room of the house, silently closing the glass door behind him. He made sure to lock it again out of habit. It took him not two seconds being inside the abode before recognizing the sound of Pip’s pleasured moans coming from the couple’s bedroom. It took everything in Kenny to not laugh out loud as he made his way from the front room, past a swinging door into the dining area, and through the kitchen to a flight of stairs that led up to the bedrooms on the second floor. Pip was being uncharacteristically loud so Kenny had a pretty good feeling Damien was doing a damn good job at keeping his British omega pleased.

The flight of stairs was scaled and Kenny finally made it to the landing. He could make out words coming from Pip now.

_“Damien, please, I need you. Please, just fuck me. Please, Alpha.”_

_“All in due time, Phillip.”_

Shaking his head, Kenny pushed forward to their bedroom. A smile spread across his lips as he walked forward and opened the door without announcing himself. The sight before him was that of Pip being tied to the bed, a vibrating dildo shoved inside his walls, and a cord leading to Damien’s nimble fingers of his right hand gingerly raising the speed of the toy. All the while, Damien’s left hand was tracing circles around Phillip’s blonde pubic hairs that were so light they were almost invisible. His cock was locked in a chastity cage, leaking profusely but forced to stay completely flaccid. A devious smile was spread across Damien’s lips as he watched Phillip squirm. The omega was in heat and, despite his own need to breed, Damien had just come home and wanted to play.

“Al…Alpha…” Pip purred against his better judgement. He loved being toyed with just as much as Damien enjoyed toying but he noticed the company they had standing in the doorway. “K-Kenny.” Long golden locks fell over Pip’s cerulean eyes and he motioned his head toward their tall visitor. “Kenny’s…he-here.”

Damien snapped his head around and his glowing, dilated, red eyes narrowed as they focused on the other blonde in the room.

Kenny casually leaned up against the door frame of the bedroom and flicked his hand out in a lazy wave. A growl emitted from Damien’s chest but a sideways grin erupted from Damien’s thick lips, his long fangs pricked his bottom lip as they exposed themselves. Kenny almost felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs at the sight of Damien, completely nude, standing up from the bed. It had been a few years since Kenny had last seen Damien. In fact, the trio had been about eighteen-years-old when Damien had his coronation into Satan's Council. That would make it five years since he had seen the Prince of Darkness and the years in Hell somehow made him even more damned appealing. With a raised, blonde eyebrow, Kenny returned that same grin.

“Why, hello Kenny. Long time, no see.” Damien purred out as he crossed the room. The large horns on his head had grown even larger; they circled and twisted around his head like a satanic ram. Damien’s leathery ombre wings folded against his shoulder blades and were, even tucked, towering over his head.

“Hello to you both. Sorry to interrupt.” Kenny delivered playfully, knowing full well they all knew he wasn’t sorry about interrupting their fun. “But I am in some need of information.”

Damien flashed his white teeth in a frightening display of a coy smile. “Well of course you are Kenneth.” Damien returned the teasing tone. “I am inclined to give you whatever information you need…for a price, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter! I have a lot of plans for Damien and Kenny (and Pip, of course!). Sorry again for posting late. Life has been a little insane lately. I'm working 11 hour shifts so by the time I get home, I have enough time to microwave dinner, shower, then go to bed. Then, yesterday, I had to take my partner to the ER because she suddenly had a lump on her throat! Turns out it was just a swollen lymph node but still... :'( scary stuff! 
> 
> As always, thanks to everyone who has read, commented, or Kudos'd this story! You guys keep the inspiration flowing (dare I say, even, that you all are my muses?). Tell me what you think about the story, if you have anything you'd like to see, or you know...just whatever you wanna say :) it's all appreciated.


	6. GOIN’ DOWN TO SOUTH PARK.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny's participating in activities in Hell. Damien is a douche canoe, but in a fun way. Kevin doin' Kevin things. Stan and Kyle go to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *long deep ass breath* I could sit here and apologize for being MIA or I could post up a chapter. Guess which one I chose ;))
> 
> In all seriousness though, I have been working crazy amounts of over time, I am in the middle of planning a wedding for November and it's just been CRAZY busy but I hope this chapter is up to your expectations none-the-less. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

“The fuck you mean Kenny’s dead, Ma?”

Anger welled up throughout Kevin’s body as he spoke to his mother. He could feel his hands shaking; the old flip phone he was using moved ever so slightly against his ear as he tried to speak calmly. He was having a hard time even understanding Carol on the other end of the phone from the chokes and sobs she couldn’t control. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down onto the skin. He noticed he bit himself too roughly when he tasted copper against his tongue. He ran the fingers of his free hand against his mouth, pulling away to examine the small amount of blood that had accumulated. He sighed and reached down, wiping the blood on his grease covered blue jeans. 

A shuttered breath came from the other end of the phone and Kevin was forced to pay really close attention to comprehend his mother. He closed his gunmetal blue eyes, trying to hush his own breathing. “W-well,” Came Carol’s voice through the receiver. “Long story short, Kenny came to my defense and Ned an’ Jimbo shot him square in the chest ‘n’ throat. He…he’s finally stopped bleedin’ on the floor. Butters is tryna clean up what’s left o’ the blood.”

Reaching up to grab his beard in frustration, Kevin let out a deep sigh and nodded his head. _Of course, Kenny would have to go and die when the entire McCormick family was vulnerable_. “A’ight, Ma, I’m comin’ home. Okay? I’m comin’ home. Just sit tight.”

“Well, wait now.” Carol sniffed, “Thought you couldn’t leave Denver. Can’t even leave the county.”

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it, Ma.” Kevin pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it for a moment before pressing the red phone button to hang up on his mother. He rolled his eyes and looked up on the ceiling for only a moment before putting both hands on the top and bottom speaker and receiver each. He twisted the phone in his hands, snapping it in half and then chucked it to the ground beneath him. He then proceeded to stomp with a steel-toed boot on the phone until it was so ground into the carpet, it’d be difficult to clean up later. “Fuckin’ Ned and Jimbo…mother fuckin’ assholes always pullin’ stupid fuckin’ shit!” With every word, he put his boot to the ground. The sounds of the phone crunching beneath his feet weren’t near satisfying enough to soothe the anger that had bubbled in the tallest McCormick.

From around the corner a smaller, blonder man than that of Kevin walked up and watched the ex-convict smash his phone into the carpet. He twitched just a bit before speaking. “COCK SHIT!” His voice raised unintentionally but it made Kevin stop his ministrations and stare, anger still fueled behind his eyes. His lip was pulled back into his mouth as he stared at the man. “What’re you doing, Kev?”

Kevin moved away from his mess and looked down at what he’d done. He removed his skin from his teeth and put his hand to his mouth to check for blood. Surely enough, he’d made himself bleed again. He wiped the liquid on his jeans one more time. “Goddammit, Thomas.” He stared for a moment, unable to formulate his own words. He’d always had a problem with speaking to other people outside of the McCormick clan and Thomas was no different. “I, uh,” He swallowed and looked back up to gaze at the smaller man. “How long you been there?”

“Long enough to see you -FUCK!- smash your burner into the carpet.”

Gunmetal blue eyes looked up and down Thomas’ body. The man had welcomed Kevin into his home with open arms, despite him being a convict, and Kevin had just ground his phone into Thomas’ carpet. “You pissed or what?”

A small sigh escaped Thomas’ lips and he shook his head. “Not at all. It’ll get cleaned.” He said quietly, taking a few careful steps up to Kevin. He placed his hands on the older man’s chest and looked up at Kevin with jade colored eyes. “Now what…” He swallowed hard, “DICK CUNT,” and took a deep breath. “What is the problem?”  
The tension in Kevin’s body slightly eased up but he was still angry. He placed his large hands to Thomas’ shoulders and lightly squeezed, eliciting a small moan from the other man. Thomas’ muscles were tight. He always seemed to be in constant need of a massage. Jade eyes closed and Thomas leaned his head back. “Karen’s missin’, Kenny’s fuckin’ dead, and I gotta go home. Right fuckin’ now.”

“COCK ASS!” Thomas shouted before opening his eyes again and observed Kevin’s dark face carefully. “You know -SHIT FACE!– You know I won’t stop you, Kev. Just…don’t get caught.”

*~*~*~*

Kenny grinned as he watched Damien’s coy smile to continue to display over his face. The blonde had been in a similar situation with the Prince of Darkness and his omega before. In fact, multiple times over. This once, he mulled it over in his head as he reached for the zipper on his old orange sweatshirt and began to pull down the zipper, revealing the markings of an angel arching back with his wings spread. The symbol of one of his favorite bands, Led Zepplin. Kenny was with Butters and suddenly he felt guilt wash over him. The little, happy blonde knew of Kenny’s…habits and adventurisms. _Do whatever makes ya happy, Ken. Don’t let little ole’ me stop ya._

The thing is, Kenny loved that little, happy blonde with ever fiber of his being. He worked hard to get where he was in life to provide for him. If he couldn’t stay faithful, then What was the point of him being in love? This was a situation that Kenneth McCormack has never found himself in before. Damien clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tutting at him.

“I know why it is you stall, Kenneth.” He purred, his smile twisted into more amused than coy. Fire lit behind his eyes with the knowledge that entertained him. “Lucky for you, I’m already in the middle of pleasing my Omega, as you can see.” He gestured towards Pip who silently waved back.

Kenny seemed a little dazed as he zipped his jacket up as he watched Damien with wide, confused eyes. This excited Damien even more. It was rare when Kenny was thrown off guard and looked vulnerable. Damien was almost disappointed that he had other plans for the golden-haired man.

“I have had issues with delinquents lurking around our property. It’s especially bad when Phillip is in heat. I wish to send them a message.” Damien began as he clasped his hands behind his back. This was a stance he would use when giving orders to the soldiers of his father's dominion. He made his way closer to Kenny who eyed him back curiously. “Downstairs there is a locked chest full of weapons. The code to get in is 666. Take whatever weapons you wish but please, dispose the delinquents with whatever means necessary.”

“Alpha, my love, that seems quite difficult—” Pip began but was cut short as Damien kicked the pace of the dildo inside of Pip into over drive with his controller. Damien glanced over at his fair-haired pet, something in his red eyes changed to something that could have been described as fondness but disappeared as soon as he turned his attention back to Kenny.

“Do this for me, and I will tell you where your sister is.” Damien promised the immortal.

Kenny had momentarily forgotten that the son of the devil had the ability to know what was going on in the Realm of the Living. That was one of the entire reasons he wanted to come here in the first place. Kenny had fought off many different types of people with different builds all his life, but he couldn’t think of any time that he knew of that he fought a demon. The idea made his stomach lurch with nervousness. He had to do it, though; he had no other choice. He had to do it for Karen. Reluctantly Kenny nodded his head in agreement and a loud moan elicited from the fair-headed man laying impatiently on the bed. Damien grinned with genuine content as an eagerness filled his eyes. Kenny knew what the look meant as his eyes trailed to Pip, whose face was red with pleasure and complete embarrassment of his wailing. Damien patted Kenny’s shoulder with rough hands as he made his way back to Pip’s bedside.

“You might hurry if you want the information.” Damien added without looking to Kenny, but instead focused his attention to the blonde’s chastity belt as he worked it off of his omega. “We both know you have a limited time to be here and I would hate for you to do all that work and not get the information you need.”

He said it in a manner that almost sent chills down Kenny’s spine. It was playful and entirely sinister at the same time. Damien didn’t waste any time removing the dildo from his lover to only replace it with his entire self as Kenny left the bedroom and bolted down the stairs.

*~*~*~*

“Just drop it, dude! Jesus!” Kyle shouted as he pulled a tank top over his bare chest. Stan had been relentless since he came home and, in all honesty, Kyle was in no mood to deal with it tonight. Kyle carried a lot of weight on his own heart after deciding that if he didn’t hear anything positive about Karen in two days, he would text Cartman. He knew in his heart it was a horrible idea but he didn’t want to stand around and wait for something dreadful to happen because of him.

“Dude…I’m just trying to help.” Stan mumbled as he followed Kyle into their bedroom to change out of his dusty police uniform.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why his red-headed, hot-headed boyfriend seemed so tense. He knew he had had a rough day but he almost seemed defensive. When he tried to pry a little by asking questions, Kyle shut them down immediately. This caused Stan to remain quiet as he watched Kyle. His fingers unbuttoned the front of his uniform, slowly revealing the bullet proof vest he was required to wear for the job. He entertained the idea of not removing it thanks to Kyle's mood but quickly pushed the thought to the side. Kyle was angry, sure, but he didn't have a tendency for violence. Not toward Stan, anyway.

"Look, I'm sorry." He apologized once more as he tossed the top half of his uniform on their shared bed. "Maybe you've got some thoughts about all of this, dude, I dunno." A sigh escaped his lips. "If you don't want to talk about it, Kyle, I get it, but as opinionated as you are, you have to have some thoughts about why Cartman would want her."

Kyle's face fell from angry to exhausted as he let out a defeated sigh. He stood there holding a pair of black boxer briefs in his hands but suddenly felt too tired to put them on.

"Stan." His voice was almost so sullen and quiet, Stan had to strain his hearing to listen to his next few words. "It's Cartman we are talking about here. He doesn't have or need a rhyme or reason. There is no point in trying to make sense of it because he is just a narcissistic, manipulative asshole. He always has been. Always will be."

Moving his hands down to unbuckle his utility belt. He kept the gun still in the holster as he did so, never having removed it during his shift that day. The safety was rarely ever off so Stan knew they were safe from miscellaneous gun fire. None-the-less, he laid the utility belt down gently on the bed and moved to unbutton his pants and move them down his toned thighs. They pooled against the floor against bootless feet.

"You're right but this is kind of random, ya know. None of us have talked to Cartman, except Karen, since we ran into him at the..." Ocean eyes came to the realization that Cartman had run into Kyle a few weeks ago in the grocery store. "Shit."

Kyle carefully folded his underwear and placed it back in the drawer. He felt like his energy had just been siphoned out of his body as he pulled himself onto the bed and melted into the mattress. He wasn’t normally one to sleep naked but he figured an exception could be made for tonight. It was late and he was exhausted. He had to work in the morning and he wasn’t exactly feeling it. If only he could get a good night sleep tonight. If only.

“What?” He asked gingerly, although he knew Stan finally came to the comprehension to Cartman’s madness and it made his stomach churn.

"You remember running into that motherfucker a few months ago? At the market down the road." Stan asked, picking his pants up from the floor. He folded them and placed them on top of the dresser across from the bed he and Kyle shared. "Didn't he say some pretty, uh, crazy stuff that day?"

He reached up to his own neck and began to hoist the bullet proof vest off his body. It was tight around his muscular torso and was always a little difficult to get off though he was used to it by now. He moved to a closet and grabbed an empty hanger. He hung the vest on a hanger and placed it inside the closet before shutting the door and turning to look at his boyfriend, clad now only in a plain white t-shirt and baby blue boxer briefs. Placing his hands behind his head as he rested on his pillow and watched the ceiling, Kyle nodded gently.

“How could I forget that? Been on literal lock down ever since.” Came Kyle’s snarky response.

Kyle move his head to the left to watch Stan carefully, side-eyeing him. Blue eyes met weary green orbs and Kyle felt his heart hum happily in his chest. Although Kyle didn’t ever regret being feisty with Stan, (and why would he? He’s been that way all their lives) he did feel a little guilty jumping all over Stan the moment he came home. Stan didn’t deserve it. The officer wasn’t dense even if he did say some stupid shit without thinking. Stan was right, Kyle was the opinionated one. Their usual fights start because Kyle can’t hold back his opinion about something, whether it was good or bad. They hit so many rough patches in their lives, how they were even together at this point will forever and always be a mystery to him. The one simple truth was that no matter how stupid pissed he got at Stan, no one ever understood him quite like his super best friend did. Stan was everything to him. He would have been in so much more trouble without Stan than with him. Hell, maybe if Stan hadn’t gone to the military their lives might be completely different. Better even. They probably would have adopted a few kids and have a few dogs. Without being able to stop himself, a small smile crossed his lips at the thought. _Maybe when everything blows over and Karen is found, maybe we can have that_.

"Yeah, no, I know." Stan mentioned softly, reaching up to scratch at the soft ebony hair he'd had cut so it would stay out of his eyes. "Well, maybe he got Karen so it would...somehow...get to you?" He asked but then shook his head. "That's probably stupid though, right? Like, it doesn't make much sense." Stan moved to crawl into bed with Kyle, lifting the blankets as he moved in next to his lover.

Having his pleasant thoughts thrown out and replaced with images of Cartman, Kyle felt the sour mood coming back.

“It’s not stupid at all but can we please not talk about it anymore tonight? I’m exhausted and I am sure you are too.” Kyle pleaded with Stan as he scooted closer into Stan’s warmth. “We both want to help, but there’s no sense in staying up all night thinking about it, especially if we both have to work.”

Delicately as well as purposefully placing his hand on Stan’s broad chest, Kyle walked his index and middle finger up Stan’s sternum.

“I’ve had a long, stressful day and I would really like something to relieve that, Officer Marsh.” Kyle’s voice dripped with honey as he spoke. He didn’t realize how much he actually wanted and needed Stan until he came to this close proximity. “I really don’t want to be in a bad mood anymore.”

 _Damn_ , he really did need some sort of stress relief. He needed to calm the fuck down and think everything out for the next couple of days thoroughly, but nothing was more important to him than keeping his and Stan’s relationship as healthy as it could be. In that moment, he thought maybe he should come clean about his thoughts of Cartman trying to get to him. Of that fact that he made up his mind about texting the fatass if Karen wasn’t found. The more the thought about it, the more he convinced himself that it was better to take action and beg forgiveness later. He might be the only thing that could save Karen and if he told his biased cop boyfriend about his plan, Stan will totally choose Kyle’s safety over Karen’s, whether it was Kenny’s little sister or not. With a smirk, Stan gingerly grabbed hold of Kyle's hand that moved against his chest. He licked his lips and reached around his red-headed love, placing his other hand against the small of Kyle's back. He manhandled his boyfriend up onto him even more and grinned.

"Well, if you wanna relieve some stress, it's been said around the water cooler I can be pretty good at helping with that." His voice was smooth, deep, and maybe even a little forcefully rugged. A chuckle escaped his throat as he pushed his hips up to grind against Kyle's already naked lower half. "I mean, you know what they say about rumors but I hear that one holds up pretty well."

Feeling his ears grow hot as he listened to Stan’s seductive words and he let out a breathy chuckle followed by a small moan.

“I do believe Kenny started that rumor, actually.” Kyle’s green eyes brightened against the contrast of the color filling his cheeks. “But he’s not wrong.”

*~*~*~*

With a final swift blow, the blue blood oozed from where the head of a demon once sat and the corpse crumpled to the barren earth. Breathing heavily, Kenny’s chest heaved up and down as he struggled to stand up with the loss of energy. It was a difficult feat, but he had accomplished what Damien had set him out to do. Demons were no easy foe and the long, scythe with a purple aura glowing from it seemed to fit in Kenny’s hands perfectly. He had felt drawn to it when he found it in Damien’s weapons chest. In hell, life was significantly different. Kenny had mastered arts of the supernatural. It wasn’t magic, as some would have said it was on the Living Plane, however it seemed otherworldly. Kenny had control over ghostly apparitions of fire and could vanish into thin air and appear some where else if he wished. The problem was, it was only something he was able to access in the layers of hell. It is unfortunate because the powers of the Netherborn would be incredibly useful.

Dragging the scythe up and placing it over his shoulders with caution, he spun around and took in his surroundings carefully before he made his way to the large iron gate to Damien’s property. Five demon bodies lay strewn about the front of the otherwise beautiful grounds of the Prince of Darkness. Kenny pushed against the gate to close and lock them securely before wearily making his way back to the residence of Pip and Damien. He kicked his shoes off once more and as the Netherborn made in into the homely abode of the AntiChrist, Damien himself was already there to greet him with a glowing happy Pip at his side.

“Oh Kenny! I am so glad you made it back! I was terribly worried about you!” Pip beamed with sincerity.

Damien’s seductive sideways grin flashed across his face as he looked Kenny up and down. “You look terrible but thank you. You’ve done me a great service and I won’t soon forget.” He lifted his hand and snapped his nimble fingers. From them emitted a dark black billow of smoke that curled into the air above the men. The smoke effortlessly expanded and from it dropped and large, black leathery book. On the cover were transcriptions that seemed to be in a language that Kenny couldn’t comprehend yet they seemed incredibly familiar. Damien uttered a few words and an aura glowed from the Prince and the book he held dear.

Feeling a little lightheaded, Kenny looked down at his sock covered feet and saw they were beginning to fade.

“Ah shit! Damien, quick! I’m fading back. Tell me where I can find Karen!” he ushered the Prince.

Damien’s eyes turned solid black as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling. He saw flashes of a small room with cheap carpet and peeling wallpaper. The satanic bible he held in his hands connected him to any and every type of bible that’s ever been made. How else would he have the ability to see and know all? He saw a flash of Cartman carrying the girl in question to a room, 406 was the numbers that appeared before him in vision, and then the Hotel name: La Quinta Inn. The black smoke reversed from the air as Damien’s red eyes came back and the satanic bible was sucked back into the portal from whence it came.

When Damien opened his eyes, he found Kenny’s blue ones watching him frantically.

“What did you see, Love?” Pip asked him gently as he looked between the two.

In Pip’s own living room there was darkness on one side and bright light on the other as Kenny began fading in bright white lights. Damien just playfully watched Kenny who desperately began to wander across the room towards the Prince.

“Tell me!” he screamed in a panic.

Large, clear wings sprouted from Kenny’s back as he began lifting into the air away from the Prince.

Damien rolled his eyes, ‘Ugh, you are no fun.” He grumbled contemptuously. “She’s in a hotel room, 406.” He stated matter-of-fact and he waved Kenny off.

“Wait, WAIT!! What Hotel--?” Kenny bellowed but with a pop and lights almost like a firework, Kenny was sent back to the land of the living.

Pip crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at his Alpha, shaking his head. “Damien.” He pouted out in a huff. It was obvious to him that Damien knew and intentionally left out the key detail: the name of the hotel. “That was rude."

Damien grinned and shrugged his shoulders, his wings shrugging along with them. “Eh, he’ll figure it out. Besides, I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell the full truth.” He said with a mischievous grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I will continue to update chapters as I am able to, but not to worry! I am not going anywhere! ^-^
> 
> Please let me know what you think and OH - I ALMOST put a little Style smut in but decided against it last minute. If you would like for me to write the sexy-time that Stan and Kyle shared in this chapter (or in any other setting!), then let me know and I will see if I can whip something up on the side! ;D 
> 
> As always, you guys are wonderful and thank you for being so patient!
> 
> Ciao!


	7. Gonna Leave My Woes Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin still doin' Kevin things, Kenny's suddenly alive, Ike has to pee, and there's a strip joint?! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Finally updated! Woohoo! Anyway - I don't think there's anything that could trigger anyone in this chapter, despite its length. If there is, then reader beware? Also, this is the chapter where I decided to introduce a minor original character. Please enjoy!

A gloved hand reached into a tight jacket pocket to hide away a keycard belonging to the La Quinta Inn. A heavy sigh escaped the overweight young adult that was Eric Cartman but still a smile graced his lips as he thought of all he’d accomplished in the last day. If he were around his old ‘friends,’ Stan and Kyle, they’d willfully tell him that he was wearing a shit-eating grin and Cartman was more than aware of just how shit-eating his smile was this time around. He'd kidnapped Karen McCormick, convinced the clerk at the inn that she was pregnant with his child and that they were on their self-funded honeymoon there in Denver, and was now walking away, scot-free, thanks to his impeccable intimidation tactics. Damn right, he wore a well-deserved shit-eating grin because everything he’d planned thus far had gone so smoothly. 

  
Hell, Project Jew was going so smoothly, he felt he deserved a reward. First food, then sex, then he’d go home to sleep soundly in the most comfortable bed without a care in the world. Or maybe sex, then food, then sleep. Or even food during sex if he could find someone that would be willing to get a little dirty for him. Thinking deeply for a moment as he walked through the parking lot to his mother’s white Explorer, he nodded his head in affirmation to himself. Definitely food, then sex. 

Cartman reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out the keys to the old car. He unlocked the door, shuffled into the driver’s seat, and placed the key in the engine. He rolled his eyes at how old his mother’s vehicle was and wondered why in the ever-loving hell she was still driving a car that had a keyed ignition. If having his mother’s Explorer wasn’t totally necessary for his plan, he would have opted to use his own much more comfortable Escalade. He gave the car a moment to heat up before backing out of his parking spot and going out into the Denver traffic.

A small amount of time had passed before Cartman stumbled across a little gentleman’s club called The Vibe across from a Denny’s. First Cartman looked at the time, noting that it was 1:15 AM. That meant the club would be closing down soon enough but it gave him time to do what he came here to do. Cartman parked, got out the vehicle, and locked up. He slid his keys in his pants and made his way to the entrance of the strip joint. His lips displayed a smirk as he noticed a sign on the frosted glass windows that stated ‘male and female strippers,’ and immediately his mind wandered to hopefully having someone thin and redheaded. He could call them literally anything he wanted and the sex worker would have to respond.

The door was heavy, made of oak possibly, and it closed loudly behind Cartman. That didn’t stop the music though and he could already see topless females and males dancing effortlessly on three different stage fronts that connected to what appeared to be the main stage. One caught his eye immediately, over on the far left, but he kept his thoughts to himself as he walked up to a bouncer that was standing guard by a row of red velvet rope stanchions. He smiled coyly and pulled out his wallet to show his ID, proving his legal age of twenty-four years old.

The bouncer stared at the ID for a moment longer than he should have but Cartman stood confidently in front of him. Clearing his throat, the bouncer nodded and said, “Have a good night, Mr. Tenorman. Remember, club closes at 2:00 AM,” as he removed the rope from the post.

Cartman nodded as he walked past the bouncer to go and sit in front of the skinny young thing that danced on the far-left stage. There weren’t a lot of people that were surrounding him, unlike the female in the middle and what looked like a cross-dresser on the far-right. Still, though, he was attractive, lean, tall. His face was thin and his nose pointed at such a perfect angle. He was covered in elegant tattoos and his sharp eyes had intense, snow blue irises. Somehow, he seemed familiar but Cartman couldn’t quite place where he’d seen this guy before. It didn’t matter though. Eric Cartman wanted to destroy the beauty that was this guy (even if he didn’t have the crimson locks he so wanted).

*~*~*~*

Twenty minutes had gone by and the male had gone behind the stage. Cartman had ordered food, something simple: a burger, strawberry shake, and French fries. The shake was topped with whipped cream. As his last minute ordered meal was placed in front of him, he asked his waitress about the male that had worked the stage in front of him.

“Oh, him? You must be new.” She queried, her voice clearly resonating with an accent familiar to Minnesota. “That’s Rabbit.” She giggled, though her voice was dry from all the smoke that was badly filtered in the air. “He’s somethin’ special. All the men like him.” She leaned in closer to Cartman as she spoke. “You wanna get him for the next fifteen minutes? You’ll have to ask the Prince.” Cartman eyes followed the waitress’s finger. She pointed in the direction of a podium that was stationed in front of a totally different room that Eric hadn’t noticed before. There was a semi-hefty Latino male with a moderately thick beard and a full face of makeup that stood behind the podium, one leg crossed over the other as he wrote in a book. He looked deep in thought, almost perplexed. The Prince shook his head as he thought to himself before continuing to write in the leger once more.

Cartman pulled out a twenty-dollar bill to pay for the food and tip the waitress. A smile graced his lips as he walked up to the man behind the podium. He gave a couple of light taps against the wooden pedestal and when attention was given to him, his honey brown eyes shimmered against the lights. “Excuse me,” Eric began, placing his hands in his pockets, left hand gently fondling the key card. “Um, the guy that was dancing on that stage. Rabbit… ” He pointed to the one that had previously been occupied by the exotic dancer. “I’d like to have him until closing if that’s alright.”

That confused appearance never left Prince’s face as he looked up to take a gander at Eric Cartman. “Yeah,” The word was thick with a drawl. “Right. We’re about to close, buddy. He’s packing up to go home right now. Guaranteed.”

A huff escaped Cartman’s plump lips and he glanced down to cement floor. “B-but, I’ll tip really good.” His voice was almost hoarse and, all through the act, he knew he sounded pathetic. He learned early on in life just how to get what he wanted: to embody pitifulness or use of intimidation tactics.

Prince shifted his eyes back and forth between the disheartened patron and towards the back of the stage. Sighing, he focused on Cartman and nodded his head. “Fine, but you’re going to need to pay everything up front.”

Honey brown oracles played well as they perked up and Cartman began to dig into his pants to find his wallet. Once he finally pulled it out, he looked at it for a moment. The old, worn down leather was faded and the seams were trying to rip open. Cartman knew he would eventually have to get a new one but he wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible. It was the last gift he’d ever received from Kyle Broflovski. Opening the leather pouch, he pulled out just over three hundred fifty dollars. “Three fifty. Is that enough?”

The light sparkled in Prince’s eyes as he grabbed the money and counted it. He shoved the money into the leger and closed it roughly. “Should be fine.” He attempted being casual about the amount of cash. “Follow me.” He said as he stepped down from the podium and headed towards and then up the stage.

The three steps going upstage were a little steep but Cartman didn’t care at all. “So, this might sound weird, but is there any way that Rabbit could wear a wig?”

Once more the perplexity shined brightly against Prince’s features but he nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m sure one of the girls will let him borrow a wig.” He stated as he pulled the black curtain back to lead Cartman backstage.

Surrounding the two were men and women undressing and taking off their makeup. Nudity occupied the area and Cartman had to keep his hands tucked deep in his pockets to hold back from the sights before him. It had been way too long since he’d been with anyone, he decided. It was a good thing he was doing this.

“Rabbit!” Prince called loudly.

His voice was promptly followed by a much deeper set of vocal cords, “What?!”

Prince and Cartman continued their journey to find the attractive young man that had danced on the far-left stage. Rabbit, as they discovered his whereabouts, was removing his own makeup. The pale skin underneath the foundation was subtly covered in pockmarks, a sign of scaring from childhood trauma. He’d covered his upper half in a thin black jacket and the pants that he’d so seductively shoved off of himself on stage were now sitting tightly against his skinny legs. Even still Cartman felt familiarity with the adult male but he pushed that feeling to the side.

Exasperated, Rabbit turned to look at the duo. His azure eyes were surrounded by a charcoal colored eyeliner that had begun to run down his face as he washed his skin from the glitter and face paint. Even without all the goop covering his flesh, he was exquisite. His hair was cut so that it was just barely in his eyes and it appeared as though it had just recently been dyed. Cartman could almost feel the grit of the cheap box dye in his hands as he imagined himself grabbing hold of the other man’s locks.

Maybe the wig wouldn’t be necessary.

No. It was most certainly a requirement for tonight. Eric wanted to fuck someone but he wanted the Jew most of all. Since he couldn’t have Kyle, he could relish in the anonymity that was this random man in this arbitrary gentlemen’s club.

Cartman merely watched as Prince and Rabbit exchanged words and he could only grin, coyly, when the thinner male glared at him. The look of annoyance was rather stimulating for Eric. He only grew excited as Rabbit became more upset.

“There are clean wigs in the far back room if you want to take him there.” Prince mentioned softly. He was trying to console the obviously angered stripper but it didn’t seem to work quite the way he wanted. Instead of being comforted in the acts he was about to partake in, that sentence just seemed to create more tension.

After what seemed like forever, Rabbit let out a long, hefty sigh and rolled his eyes. “I fucking told you, I have to work in the coffee shop in the morning and I can’t be doing this bullshit anymore.” He waved his hand in Eric’s direction. “This is the last goddamn time I’m doing this shit, Prince, or I swear on all that is unholy, I will fuck your world up. I’ve practiced the occult so I know how and I can, motherfucker.” He turned his attention to Eric then and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to chew on the sensitive skin. “I’m not wearing a goddamn wig. If you want to fuck me then you’re going to have to fuck _me_.”

Clearing his throat, Cartman couldn’t help but feel a little more turned on. He looked down for a moment, hoping that his erection wasn’t noticeable, before remembering that he’d not seen below his belly in a quite some time. He glanced upward, playing his honey brown eyes with naivety. “Well, I suppose that’s alright with me.” He gave a curt smile before reaching his hand out to Rabbit. “Lead me?” He inquired.

This action rewarded Eric with a death stare and Rabbit placing his own hands in his pockets. “Fuck off.” He spat, shooting Prince one more nasty glare before walking off toward the dimly lit far back corner of the building.

Eric followed.

*~*~*~*

Fresh coffee ensnared the senses of Tweek Tucker as he flipped the CLOSED sign to reflect OPEN toward the outside world. He unlocked the storefront doors and hooked his full key ring to a belt loop on the front of his jeans. A heaving sigh escaped him as he made his way back to the hot food counter. He paid very specific vendors for breakfast foods in the morning and one of those vendors was currently back in South Park so the pastries that were made fresh every morning for Tucker’d Out Coffee House were missing. Tweek was sure to have some disgruntled customers because the homemade bear claws had become a favorite among Tweek’s customer base. His other vendor, Davíd Rodríguez, had already come and delivered the order of breakfast burritos Tweek purchased.

Tweek hadn’t seen an ounce of sleep since Craig had left to South Park to be with his family so he spent his energy working when he wasn’t texting his husband inane things throughout the night.

_‘I miss you…’_

__

__

_‘Davíd says hey…’_

_‘Keep me posted…’_

_‘Are you sleeping…?’_

_‘UGH…’_

_‘Sorry…’_

_‘I love you…’_

_‘Still asleep?’_

_‘How’s Tricia?’_

These were just some of the texts that he’d sent to Craig over the last several hours. Paranoia forced Tweek to believe that Craig was ignoring him because he was annoying but a more sensible part of Tweek knew that Craig was just sleeping, hopefully.

The self-proclaimed irrational man pulled a stool up behind the counter and sat down, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He swiped his finger across the lock screen that bore a picture of him and Craig at the beach on a vacation they went on not too long ago. They both looked really happy. Times were, in Tweek’s humble opinion, much worse today than they were when this silly picture was taken. He pushed on the little text icon and stared at all the messages he’d sent to Craig. His hands were shaking and his teeth clenched tightly together as he tried to count the number of messages he’d sent his beloved. A distressed sound escaped him when he counted forty-seven texts since 5:14 AM, when he stepped foot in the shop. That wasn’t counting what he’d sent to Craig throughout the night.

The time, currently, was 6:21 AM and still no response from his lover. Tweek squeezed the handheld device in his left hand and ran his right hand up through his hair to grab at the blonde locks. The stress of not hearing from Craig was a lot to handle and this entire situation was so much pressure. Tweek wanted to stop focusing on it and run his shop but he knew that there would be no way he could focus on the coffee house while their friends and families were experiencing lasting perils.

Hearing the bell ring on the top of the door, he looked up to see one of his three employees meander inside. He was dressed in dark clothing, boots clipping lazily at the tile floor. Tweek made it a point to notice that the man wasn’t wearing any of his usual dark eye makeup. In fact, he was completely bare-faced which was abnormal for the man. He carried a satchel that he placed on the countertop after walking into the working area and began to dig through to find a coffee and cigarette stained white apron. He unfolded it and placed it over his head before looking back to his boss. “What?” His deep voice was still filled with sleep. He closed the satchel and placed it under the counter so it would be out of his way during the workday. Awkwardly, he moved around Tweek and grabbed a to-go cup. He filled it up with a dark Columbian roast and grabbed a cardboard holder and a lid. He walked back to the counter, placed the cup and lid on the counter, grabbed a permanent marker and wrote his name on the lid.

“Pete,” Tweek reached across the counter to grab some of the sugar packets for his upset employee. “Are you alright? You didn’t wear any eye stuff.” He slid the sugar packets over to Pete who grabbed them immediately, flicked them with his thumb, and then tore the packets and tipped them over to spill into his coffee.

“Fuckin’ stupid night at the club.” Pete responded. “I had a guy come in, right before two o’clock and ask for some favors.” He grimaced as he thought back on the night before. “Guy was real nice, fuckin’ needy as shit, but nice right until I got him into one of the back rooms and then he turned into the asshole from hell.”

Putting his phone away, Tweek watched Pete in empathy. If he could listen to Pete’s problem, maybe he could momentarily forget about his own. “That sounds terrible.”

Pete moved his tattooed arms around his back to tie the apron loosely across his lanky body. “Yeah, well, while I was giving this motherfucker head, he was telling me some demented stuff like how he has a guy he likes to jerk off to and he hires hustlers to pretend they’re this guy because he can’t have the real dude. He also apparently has some stupid elaborate plan to get this guy to be with him.” Picking up the cup, Pete placed the lid flush with his lips and slowly tried to drink the piping hot java. It was still too warm to try and drink full on so after just a little sip, he placed the cup back on the counter and looked back at Tweek, whose eyes seemed to have grown three times their normal size.

“Are you serious?” Tweek’s voice had gone up an entire octave, causing Pete to scowl at the sound. “Did you catch this guy's name or anything? What’d he look like?”

Pondering, the tattooed barista shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know; fat. Kind of gross. Tiny prick.” He chuckled quietly to himself. “Like…super tiny.”

Waving off the conversation about the mystery man’s penis, Tweek shook his head. “Is that all you got?”

“Well,” Pete smirked as he watched Tweek and he pulled the satchel back up onto the counter to dig through it. He pulled out a worn-out wallet with faded leather and breaking seams. “I got this.” He opened it, pulling out what appeared to be a driver’s license. “Says his name is Eric Tenorman, that he weighs three hundred fifty-nine pounds, is and that he’s a sick loser.”

“Oh man, can I see?” Tweek reached out to the driver’s license as Pete handed it over. Staring at the picture for just a few seconds brought all sorts of negative feelings into the pit of Tweek’s stomach. He groaned and threw the license to the ground as if sent an electric shock through his fingers. “Fuck, man! That’s fucking Cartman!” He exclaimed as he began to fumble around the belt loop on his jeans.

The name sounded vaguely familiar to Pete but he wasn’t sure why Eric Cartman…Tenorman…had Tweek freaking out. “Wait, what?”

Tweek was finally able to unhook the keys from his pants and place them on the counter. “Ngh, oh man!” Tweek had to try and calm himself down but everything was rushing around him so quickly. He could feel his heart beating profoundly in his chest and he knew its pace had picked up significantly. “Did he mention anything about a pregnant girl or, like, a kidnapping?” He queried hastily.

Attempting to think back on everything before Pete almost violently laughed at Cartman’s penis was a blur thanks to his already exhausted mind but he shook his head. “I kind of remember him saying something about having to watch a girl for a while today but he didn’t say anything about her being pregnant.” His voice was suddenly really soft. “I don’t remember anything about a kidnapping.”

“Fuck, man.” Tweek grabbed at the back of his hair. He swore he could almost hear it tearing out of his head as he pulled roughly against the lightly colored locks. “Butters, right before he left to go back to South Park, mentioned something about, ngh, Kenny suspecting Cartman was behind Karen going missing.” His voice rose another octave. “Oh shit. I gotta call Craig. I gotta go home, Pete; I gotta leave, like, right now.” He paused, noticing he’d already assumed that Pete would do what he was about to ask. “Can you take care of the shop for a couple of days?”

Bewildered, Pete could only nod his head in agreement. “Sure thing, boss.” He said as he watched Tweek run out the door faster than he could finish his response.

*~*~*

Blinding brightness and particles came together and slowly formed a silhouette of an ethereal being. Large glowing wings and a halo above dawned the figure as it hovered multiple feet off of the ground; particles from the environment nearby continued to organize an arrangement of flesh and bone over the enigmatic profile. The Netherborn spawn was accustomed to regenerating back into the world of the living and no longer required the mother in order to be recreated. The unfortunate part is the inability to recreate clothing. With more blinding lights, the form became recognizable as a man. Blonde messy hair adorned the top of his head and his sky-blue eyes opened and observed the dark surroundings. The glowing halo and matching wings began to dissipate like smoke as Kenny’s bare feet touched the recently carpeted floor of his childhood bedroom. Kenny’s knees tightened under his own weight as if he had been laying down for days and when he settled down onto the bedroom floor, any evidence of wings or a halo was completely lost. Kenny moved his eyes to examine his bare, freckle-covered chest where he had been shot previously. Two lightly colored scars were the only trace of last night’s catastrophe. The scar was so light it wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who wasn’t looking for it and it was the same texture as the rest of his skin, it was neither risen nor had a fibrous feel. Despite just coming back to the land of the living, the immortal was incredibly exhausted mentally. He had been shot three times less than 10 hours ago and battled demons to appease the Prince of the Underworld and was tricked in the end anyway. _Damn Him_. One thing Kenny knew for certain, his sister was being held captive in some hotel. The problem was: he didn’t know which hotel or even if it was in South Park. He let out a defeated sigh and angled his head to look towards the darkest part of the room that had red glowing numbers from a clock in the blackness. It was 6:37 in the morning. Shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, Kenny lightly padded to the bed where Butters’ slept silently, facing the wall. All he could make out in the dark corner was a light-colored tuft of hair, that seemed to glow pink due to the reflective light from the clock, sticking out from the covers. Kenny couldn’t help but smile and his frustration ebbed away and was replaced with a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. He reached out and took a handful of the covers and slipped into bed, finding Butters’ warm body incredibly comforting as he snuggled into Butters’ back. He wrapped his arms protectively around his love’s small frame. He heard a soft sigh release from his boyfriend who stirred and twisted in his arms to face him. Butters wrapped his left arm around his waist and tucked his right arm into his own torso as he nuzzled into Kenny’s chest with a satisfied smile.

“G’Mornin’ Ken.” He drawled out in a sweet whisper.

“Morning.” Kenny’s raspy, unused voice echoed back.

Butters’ placed his baby blue eyes upon his boyfriend and smiled pleasantly before giving him a gentle, morning-greeting kiss.

“I was havin’ the strangest dream…” Butters’ began softly with a sad look in his eyes as he watched Kenny. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his lips parted as he tried to find the right words to say. Kenny moved his hands to Butters’ platinum colored hair and gently caressed the silky tendrils of keratin as he watched Butters’ face without saying anything. “Well, i-it made me awful sad, Ken, but I can’t seem to really remember it now that I’m awake. Huh.” He let out a bemused pout but happily leaned into Kenny’s hand as he played with his hair. It didn’t take much to bring that bright, dimpled smile back.

Kenny was bewildered at the thought that Butters’ would almost remember something bad happening but was relieved that it was never fully recovered in his mind. He couldn’t bear the thought of Butters’ remembering each and every death he had ever gone through. That would be too tragic on someone’s mind. Only three people would be able to carry the weight of Kenny’s secret and Kenny was one of the three. The other two were incredibly stubborn and strong-minded individuals that wouldn’t be utterly mentally destroyed at such a curse.

“It’s okay…” Kenny comforted sympathetically, “I’ll chase all of your bad dreams away.”

Butters swooned to his boyfriend’s murmurs and buried his red face into Kenny’s warm chest.

“Oh Kenny, when ya say stuff like that it makes me feel like mush on the inside.” Butters’ giggled quietly and Kenny chuckled in response.

“I hate to turn your mush back to organs, but I have an idea of where Karen might be.” Kenny advised, becoming serious to the topic.

Feeling the shift in Kenny’s mannerisms, Butters nodded for him to continue, showing that Butters was also all business and giving his full attention.

“I think Cartman may have taken Karen to a hotel. The only problem is that she may not even be in a hotel here. I know Kyle and Stan saw Cartman a few months ago in Denver.”

“Golly Ken…that’ll be a lot of hotels to sift through.” Butters began as he pushed off the mattress of the bed to sit up and contemplate. “But maybe I can cross reference the easiest accessible hotels between where Stan and Kyle saw him last and the surroundin' area. Then there are only two hotels in South Park so that should help narrow it down. Cartman is smart but his laziness tends to outweigh his ability to think things through.”

Moving with Butters and sitting up, Kenny leaned over and planted a kiss on his blonde boyfriend’s temple before sliding out of the warm cover and moving to their shared suitcases to grab clean clothes. Butters leaned over the flick on the broken lamp which also turned on the bright blue Christmas lights across the top of the bedroom wall. He grinned as a few memories flooded back to his mind while he reached out and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. His grin faltered as he read a text message he had received not even five minutes ago from Tweek.

“Kenny…I think we need to call Tweek.” Butters grumbled.

*~*~*~*

Beads of sweat ran down Ike’s forehead as he made attempts to not toss and turn on the foreign, less than comfortable couch he’d fallen asleep on. His back was flush against the couch and he felt a pressure in his lap. His entire body was stiff and his eyes, despite being closed, hurt so badly he didn’t want to imagine opening them. He knew his face was dry, not only from the cold that leaked through the inadequately insulated house but from the tears that he had shed with the McCormick clan.

Decidedly, the youngest Broflovski began to wake up. The sun was shining through the windows and the pressure in his lap was too heavy on his suddenly very full bladder. A sigh escaped the lips of the teen while he opened his emotion-heavy eyelids, blinking slowly to let his retinas adjust to the sun that infiltrated the living room. Once fully accustomed, he looked down to discover the source of the pressure on his lap. Mrs. McCormick, Ike recalled, had joined him on the couch late the night before and, in attempts to console her, the teen had begun to run his fingers through her hair. That was the last thing that Ike remembered before waking up not moments ago.

Ike stared at Carol, scanning her face and memorizing everything about the woman that he hardly saw anymore. It was astounding how beautiful she was, despite all the pain and heartache he knew she’d gone through. All three McCormick spawn, not that Ike could really remember much of Kevin’s face, had their mother’s characteristics. Ike considered that a good thing. The more the McCormick kids looked like their mom, the less associated they had to be with their father. Karen was basically the spitting image of the emotionally scarred woman in his lap and he couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of adoration and dread for that feeling.

Carol McCormick had a tendency to shut down in hard situations as of late. The woman used to fight, struggle, kick, and scream until finally she couldn’t take anymore and the last few years had proven that she was ready to just start having some semblance of a normal life. It was obvious that she didn’t want to fight anymore. That was probably why she kicked Karen out of the house, Ike mused when she discovered her youngest child had gotten pregnant. Something in her just snapped that said ‘I can’t handle this right now’ and she never got around to just accepting the fact that Karen was expecting.

In the long run, Ike continued to wonder, if maybe kicking Karen out was what Mrs. McCormick thought would be better for her daughter. Karen’s grades had picked up since moving into the Tucker household. She was taking AP classes and Laura Tucker had even paid for a couple dual-credit courses sponsored through Denver University so Karen could get her foot in the door for college. Had Karen stayed living in the McCormick house, Ike knew there wouldn’t have been a way they could afford for her to excel the way she was doing in the Tucker home.

All this musing forced Ike to forget, if even momentarily, that his bladder was full until suddenly, he couldn’t forget anymore. Panic began to set in as the boy looked around frantically. He didn’t want to move Mrs. McCormick from her much deserved slumber but that first hint of needing to pee in the morning was always the most powerful. Slowly, intricately, Ike placed his oddly large hands underneath Mrs. McCormick’s head and tried to lift her without waking her up. He bit his bottom lip and almost let out a whimper when she let out a snore, making the teen drop her head back onto his lap.

“Oh my god.” He whispered to himself. Another snore emitted from Mrs. McCormick’s lips and she moved, for a moment, off of Ike. The teen saw his chance to move away but, alas, discovered he was too slow as Mrs. McCormick wrapped her arms around the thin boy’s legs, bringing them in like she would a pillow. She turned her head so that, instead of facing the wall, her face was pointed in the direction of Ike’s body. It took every ounce of the teenager to not blush and feel the heat from Mrs. McCormick’s breaths in his lower extremities. Ike let out another stupid squeak.

Breathing heavily, Ike leaned his head back and pondered on his next course of action. Mother McCormick was sleeping, quite like a rock, and the raven-haired Canadian-American was unsure how to move forward. He moved his hands up to his face and rubbed, roughly. He forced his lips to droop downward just as the front door opened with a loud bang. Quickly, Ike turned his head, hands still forcing his lips to droop as he peered upon the eldest of the McCormick children.

Kevin held onto a backpack, undoubtedly full of things he’d brought with him for his stay, and a silver thermos full of strong, black, Irish coffee. His dirty blonde hair was a mess in his face and he stared unabashedly at the sight of Ike and his mother. “You fuckin’ her too?” He asked bluntly. “Niece or nephew ‘s fine. I don’t want another sibling.” He walked further into the house, dropping his bag on the ground by the television and setting his thermos on the side table next to the couch. He reached down to lightly grab his mother’s shoulder and looked up at Ike with a smirk when he heard the teen try to hide a pained whine.

With a shake of his head, right after the embarrassing noise escaped him, Ike defended himself: “I’m not fucking her, man; she was just…” He glanced down at Mrs. McCormick and sighed heavily. “She was just really upset.”

“So, you fucked her?” Queried the muscled McCormick. Ike looked back up, his cobalt eyes meeting Kevin’s gunmetal ones. Ike watched Kevin as the older man was able to get his sleeping mother to move off of Ike. “You’re fucking with me.” He said with a bit of a smile.

Without confirmation, Kevin moved the matriarch so she was sitting up, head leaning on the back of the couch in what appeared to be a position most uncomfortable. She never once woke from her slumber. “I suggest you get up so I can lay her back down.”

Ike took in a deep breath and nodded his head as he moved to get up from the sofa. As soon as he stood the urge to urinate overtook him and he loudly, hurriedly said “Excuse me!” as he ran to the little bathroom down the hallway.

Once the teen disappeared, Kevin rolled his eyes and moved his mother so she was back to a horizontal position. Once down, she adjusted herself so she was more comfortable. A bit of warmth overtook Kevin’s heart as he gazed down at his mom. She wasn’t the most conventional parent in the world but she was certainly the better half between Stuart and herself. Deciding not to dwell on that feeling, however, Kevin took a step back, grabbed his backpack, and made his way down the hallway to what used to be his and Karen’s bedroom. Once he opened the door to peer into the pitch-black room, that warm feeling he felt just looking at his mom disappeared. Too many memories in this house, most of which were negative, flooded back to Kevin. Once again deciding not to dwell on his feelings, he tossed the backpack, unsure of where it landed in the windowless room, and he headed toward the kitchen. He managed to grab his thermos on the way.

Kevin looked at the table to see a grocery list that had been composed recently. Reading over it, the tattooed twenty-nine-year-old shook his head. He knew that his mother wasn’t aware of his visit but she left something very important off the list. Picking up a pen that had been abandoned next to the sheet of paper, Kevin scribbled one word in his chicken scratch handwriting:

_Waffles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think? Was it worth the wait? No? ;____; Sorry! I know it's been a long time since the last update and all of you deserve a lot more. I've gotten married, quit my job, gone through the worst writer's block ever, eaten food, and slept since the last update and then those pesky holidays just crept right up on me. Point is, though, I'm going to try and start updating more (I know, I know - I say that with every chapter. I'm literally the worst, please forgive me). 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support and waiting. To those who are continuously reading the rest of my works and are commenting, letting me know you're still there and still interested, it has helped me a great deal and has kept me motivated to continue these stories. I really enjoy reading everyone's comments. I can't thank you guys enough. 
> 
> I hope everyone has had momentous holidays and best of luck to all of you in the new year! 
> 
> Ciao~


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